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Lady   Macbeth  :      "  Nought's  had,  all's  spent  " 

Macbeth  Act  III  Scene  2 


Copyright,    1901 

By 

THE    UNIVERSITY    SOCIETY 


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THE  TRAGEDY  OF  MACBETH 
Preface. 


The  First  Edition.  Macbeth  was  first  printed  in  the 
First  Folio,  where  it  occupies  pp.  131  to  151,  and  is  placed 
between  Julius  Cccsar  and  Hamlet.  It  is  mentioned 
among  the  plays  registered  in  the  books  of  the  Station- 
ers' Company  by  the  publishers  of  the  Folio  as  ''  not 
formerly  entered  to  other  men."  The  text  is  perhaps 
one  of  the  worst  printed  of  all  the  plays,  and  textual 
criticism  has  been  busy  emending  and  explaining  away 
the  many  difficulties  of  the  play.  Even  the  editors  of 
the  Second  Folio  were  struck  by  the  many  hopeless 
corruptions,  and  attempted  to  provide  a  better  text. 
The  first  printers  certainly  had  before  them  a  very 
faulty  transcript,  and  critics  have  attempted  to  explain 
the  discrepancies  by  assuming  tha,t  Shakespeare's 
original  version  had  been  tampered  with  by  another 
hand. 

"Macbeth"  and  Middleton^s  "  Witch."  Some  stri- 
king resemblances  in  the  incantation  scenes  of  Macbeth 
and  Middleton's  Witch  have  led  to  a  somewhat  generally 
accepted  belief  that  Thomas  Middleton  was  answerable 
for  the  alleged  un-Shakespearian  portions  of  Macbeth. 
This  view  has  received  confirmation  from  the  fact  that  the 
stage-directions  of  Macbeth  contain  allusions  to  two 
songs  which  are  found  in  Middleton's  Witch  (viz.  "  Come 
away,  come  aivay,''  III.  v.;  "Black  Spirits  and  white," 
IV.    i.).     Moreover,    these    very    songs    are    found    in 


Preface  THE   TRAGEDY  OF 

D'Avenant's  re-cast  of  ]\Iacbeth  (1674).*  It  is,  however, 
possible  that  ]\Iiddleton  took  Shakespeare's  songs  and 
expanded  them,  and  that  D'Avenant  had  before  him  a 
copy  containing  additions  transferred  from  Aliddleton's 
cognate  scenes.  This  view  is  held  by  the  most  compe- 
tent of  Middleton's  editors,  Mr.  A.  H.  Bullen,  who  puts 
forward  strong  reasons  for  assigning  the  Witch  to  a  later 
date  than  Macbeth,  and  rightly  resents  the  proposals  on 
the  part  of  able  scholars  to  hand  over  to  Middleton  some 
of  the  finest  passages  of  the  play.f  Charles  Lamb  had 
already  noted  the  essential  differences  between  Shake- 
speare's and  Aliddleton's  Witches.  ''  Their  names  and 
some  of  their  properties,  which  ]\Iiddleton  has  given  to 
his  hags,  excite  smiles.  The  Weird  Sisters  are  serious 
things.  Their  presence  cannot  co-exist  with  mirth.  But 
in  a  lesser  degree,  the  Witches  of  Middleton  are  fine 
creatures.  Their  power,  too,  is  in  some  measure  over 
the  mind.  They  raise  jars,  jealousies,  strifes,  like  a  thick 
scurf  o'er  life.''    {Specimens  of  English  Dramatic  Poets.) 

The  Porter's  Speech.  Among  the  passages  in  Mac- 
beth that  have  been  doubted  are  the  soliloquy  of  the  Por- 
ter, and  the  short  dialogue  that  follows  between  the  Por- 
ter and  ]\Iacduf¥.  Even  Coleridge  objected  to  "  the  low 
soliloquy  of  the  Porter  ";  he  beheved  them  to  have  been 

*  The  first  of  these  songs  is  found  in  the  edition  of  1673,  which 
contains  also  two  other  songs  not  found  in  the  Folio  version. 

t  The  following  are  among  the  chief  passages  supposed  to  re- 
semble Middleton's  style,  and  rejected  as  Shakespeare's  by  the 
Clarendon  Press  editors: — Act  I.  Sc.  ii.,  iii.  1-37;  Act  II.  Sc.  i.  61, 
iii.  (Porter's  part)  ;  Act  III.  Sc.  v.;  Act  IV.  Sc.  i,  39-47,  125  132; 
iii.  140-159;  Act  V.  (?)  ii.,  v.  47-50;  viii.  32-33,  35-75. 

The  second  scene  of  the  First  Act  is  certainly  somewhat  dis- 
appointing, and  it  is  also  inconsistent  {cp.  11.  52,  53,  with  Sc.  iii., 
11.  ^2,  ^2),  and  112,  etc.),  but  probably  the  scene  represents  the 
compression  of  a  much  longer  account.  The  introduction  of 
the  superfluous  Hecate  is  perhaps  the  strongest  argument  for  re- 
jecting certain  witch-scenes,  viz.:  Act  III.  Sc.  v.;  Act.  IV.  Sc. 
i-  39-47;  Act  IV.  Sc.  i.  125-132. 


MACBETH  Preface 

written  for  the  mob  by  some  other  hand,  perhaps  with 
Shakespeare's  consent,  though  he  was  willing  to  make  an 
exception  in  the  case  of  the  Shakespearian  words,  "  77/ 
devil-porter  it  no  further;  I  had  thought  to  let  in  some  of  all 
professions,  that  go  the  primrose  way  to  the  everlasting 
bonfire."  But  the  Porter's  Speech  is  as  essential  a  part  of 
the  design  of  the  play  as  is  the  Knocking  at  the  Gate, 
the  effect  of  which  was  so  subtly  analyzed  by  De  Quincey 
in  his  well-known  essay  on  the  subject.  "  The  effect  was 
that  it  reflected  back  upon  the  murder  a  peculiar  awe- 
fulness  and  a  depth  of  solemnity  .  .  .  when  the 
deed  is  done,  when  the  work  of  darkness  is  perfect,  then 
the  world  of  darkness  passes  away  like  a  pageantry  in 
the  clouds;  the  knocking  at  the  gate  is  heard;  and  it 
makes  known  audibly  that  the  reaction  has  commenced; 
the  human  has  made  its  reflex  upon  the  fiendish;  the 
pulses  of  life  are  beginning  to  beat  again;  and  the  re- 
establishment  of  the  goings-on  of  the  world  in  which  we 
live  first  makes  us  profoundly  sensible  of  the  awful 
parenthesis  that  has  suspended  them." 

The  introduction  of  the  Porter,  a  character  derived 
from  the  Porter  of  Hell  in  the  old  Mysteries,  is  as  dra- 
matically relevant,  as  are  the  grotesque  words  he  utters; 
and  both  the  character  and  the  speech  are  thoroughly 
Shakespearian  in  conception  {cp.  The  Porter  in  Macbeth, 
New  Shak.  Soc.,  1874,  by  Prof.  Hales). 

Date  of  Composition.  The  undoubted  allusion  to 
the  union  of  England  and  Scotland  under  James  I.  (Act 
IV.  sc.  i.  120)  gives  us  one  limit  for  the  date  of  Macbeth, 
viz.,  March,  1603,  while  a  notice  in  the  MS.  Diary  of 
Dr.  Simon  Forman,  a  notorious  quack  and  astrologer, 
gives  1610  as  the  other  limit;  for  in  that  year  he  saw  the 
play  performed  at  the  Globe.*  Between  these  two  dates, 
in  the  year  1607,  ''  ^^^  Puritan,  or,  the  Widow  of  W ailing 

*  The  Dairy  is  among  the  Ashmolean  MSS.  (208)  in  the  Bod- 
leian Library ;  its  title  is  a  Book  of  Plaies  and  Notes  thereof  for 
common   Pollicie.     Halliwell    Phillipps   privately   reprinted   the 


Preface  THE   TRAGEDY   OF 

Street,''  was  published,  containing  a  distinct  reference  to 
Banquo's  Ghost — "  Instead  of  a  jester  we'll  have  a  ghost 
in  a  white  sheet  sit  at  the  upper  end  of  the  table.'' ^' 

It  is  remarkable  that  when  James  visited  Oxford  in 

1605  he  was  ''  addressed  on  entering  the  city  by  three 
students  of  St.  John's  College,  who  alternately  accosted 
his  majesty,  reciting  some  Latin  verses,  founded  on  the 
prediction  of  the  weird  sisters  relative  to  Banquo  and 
jMacbeth."  The  popularity  of  the  subject  is  further  at- 
tested by  the  insertion  of  the  Historie  of  Makbeth  in  the 

1606  edition  of  Albion's  England.  The  former  incident 
may  have  suggested  the  subject  to  Shakespeare;  the  lat- 
ter fact  may  have  been  due  to  the  popularity  of  Shake- 
speare's play.  At  all  events  authorities  are  almost  unani- 
mous in  assigning  Maebeth  to  1605- 1606;  ^^^  this  view  is 
borne  out  by  minor  points  of  internal  evidence,  f  As 
far  as  metrical  characteristics  are  concerned  the  com- 
paratively large  number  of  light-endings,  twenty-one  in 
all  (contrasted  with  eight  in  Hamlet  and  ten  in  Julius 
Ccesar)  places  Maebeth  near  the  plays  of  the  Fourth 
Period.]:     With  an  early  play  of  this  period,  viz.,  Antony 

valuable  and  interesting  booklet.  The  account  of  the  play  as 
given  by  Forman  is  not  very  accurate. 

*  Similarly,  in  Beaumont  and  Fletcher's  Knight  of  the  Burning 
Pestle,  produced  in  161 1 : — 

"  When  thou  art  at  the  table  with  thy  friends, 
Merry  in  heart  and  HlVd  with  swelling  wine, 
I'll  come  in  midst  of  all  thy  pride  and  mirth. 
Invisible  to  all  men  but  thyself." 
i E.g.  II.  iii.  5.  "expectation  of  plenty"  probably  refers  to  the 
abundance  of  corn  in  the  autumn  of  1606;  the  reference  to  the 
"  Equifocator"  seems  to  allude  to  Garnet  and  other  Jesuits  who 
were  tried  in  the  spring  of  1606. 

t  Macbeth  numbers  but  two  weak-endings,  while  Hamlet  and 
lulius  Ccesar  have  none.  Antony  and  Cleopatra  has  no  less  than 
seventy-one  light-endings  and  twenty-eight  weak-endings.  It 
would  seem  that  Shakespeare,  in  this  latter  play,  broke  away 
from  his  earlier  style  as  with  a  mighty  bound, 


MACBETH  Preface 

and  Cleopatra,  it  has  strong  ethical  affinities  (vide  Preface 
to  Antony  and  Cleopatra). 

The  Sources  of  the  Plot.  Shakespeare  derived  his 
materials  for  Macbeth  from  Holinshed's  Chronicle  of  Eng- 
land and  Scotland,  first  published  in  1577,  and  subse- 
quently in  1587;  the  latter  was  in  all  probability  the  edi- 
tion used  by  the  poet.  Holinshed's  authority  was 
Hector  Boece,  whose  Scotorum  Historiae  was  first  printed 
in  1526;  Boece  drew  from  the  work  of  the  Scotch  his- 
torian Fordun,  who  lived  in  the  fourteenth  century. 
Shakespeare's  indebtedness  to  Holinshed  for  the  plot 
of  the  present  play  is  not  limited  to  chapters  dealing 
with  Alacbeth;  certain  details  of  the  murder  of  Duncan 
belong  to  the  murder  of  King  Duffe,  the  great  grand- 
father of  Lady  Macbeth.  Shakespeare's  most  note- 
worthy departure  from  his  original  is  to  be  found  in  his 
characterization  of  Banquo. 

(A  full  summary  of  theories  of  The  Legend  of  Mac- 
beth is  to  be  found  in  Furness'  Variorum  edition,  which 
contains  also  an  excellent  survey  of  the  various  criti- 
cisms on  the  characters.) 

The  Macbeth  of  Legend  has  been  whitened  by  recent 
historians;  and  the  Macbeth  of  History,  according  to 
Freeman,  seems  to  have  been  quite  a  worthy  monarch 
{cp.  Freeman's  Norman  Conquest,  Skene's  Celtic  Scotland, 
etc.). 

Shakespeare,  in  all  probability,  took  some  hints  from 
Scot's  Discoverie  of  Witchcraft  (1548)  for  his  witch-lore. 
It  should  also  be  noted  that  King  James,  a  profound  be- 
liever in  witchcraft,  published  in  1599  his  Demonologie, 
maintaining  his  belief  against  Scot's  scepticism.  In  1604 
a  statute  was  passed  to  suppress  witches. 

There  may  have  been  other  sources  for  the  plot;  pos- 
sibly an  older  play  existed  on  the  subject  of  Macbeth; 
in  Kempe's  Nine  Days'  Wonder  (1600)  occur  the  follow- 
ing words: — "  I  met  a  proper  upright  youth,  only  for  a 
little  stooping  in  the  shoulders,  all  heart  to  the  heel,  a 


Preface  THE  TRAGEDY  OF 

penny  poet,  whose  first  making  was  the  miserable  story 
of  Mac-doel,  or  Mac-dobeth,  or  Mac-somewhat,"  etc. 
Furthermore,  a  ballad  (?  a  stage-play)  on  Macdobeth 
was  registered  in  the  year  1596. 

Duration  of  Action.  The  Time  of  the  Play,  as  an- 
alyzed by  Mr.  P.  A.  Daniel  {New  Shakespeare  Soc,  1877- 
79),  is  nine  days  represented  on  the  stage,  and  inter- 
vals : — 

Day  I,  Act  I.  Sc.  i.  to  iii.  Day  2,  Act  I.  Sc.  iv.  to  vii. 
Day  3,  Act  II.  Sc.  i.  to  iv.  An  interval,  say  a  couple  of 
weeks.  Day  4,  Act  III.  Sc.  i.  to  v.  [Act  III.  Sc.  vi.,  an 
impossible  time.]  Day  5,  Act  IV.  Sc.  i.  Day  6,  Act  IV. 
Sc.  ii.  An  interval.  Ross's  journey  to  England.  Day 
7,  Act  IV.  Sc.  iii.,  Act  V.  Sc.  i.  An  interval.  Malcolm's 
return  to  Scotland.  Day  8,  Act  V.  Sc.  ii.  and  iii.  Day  9, 
Act  V.  Sc.  iv.  to  viii. 


MACBETH 


Critical  Comments. 


Argument. 

I.  Macbeth  and  Banquo,  two  commanding  generals 
under  King  Duncan  of  Scotland,  achieve  a  signal  victory 
over  a  rebel  army,  although  the  latter  is  supported  by 
Norwegian  troops.  On  their  return  from  battle  the  two 
Scottish  generals  are  accosted  by  three  witches,  who  hail 
Macbeth  as  Thane  of  Glamis,  Thane  of  Cawdor,  and 
future  king  of  Scotland.  Afterwards  they  promise  Ban- 
quo  that  his  sons  shall  sit  upon  the  throne.  Macbeth  is 
already  Thane  of  Glamis,  but  nothing  more.  While  the 
witches'  announcement  is  yet  sounding  in  his  ears,  mes- 
sengers from  the  king  arrive  and  confer  upon  him,  in 
Duncan's  name,  and  because  of  his  victory,  the  title  of 
Thane  of  Cawdor.  This  verification  of  two  terms  of  the 
witches'  greeting  leads  Macbeth  secretly  to  hope  for  the 
third — the  throne  itself.  He  communicates  this  wish  to 
his  wife,  a  cruel,  unscrupulous  woman,  and  their  joint 
desire  develops  into  a  plot  against  the  king.  The  mon- 
arch, suspecting  nothing,  seeks  to  do  Macbeth  still 
further  honour  by  visiting  him. 

II,  During  the  visit  the  king  is  murdered  by  Mac- 
beth, aided  by  his  wife.  Malcolm  and  Donalbain,  the 
king's  sons,  flee  the  country  in  terror;  and  Macbeth  seeks 
to  divert  suspicion  concerning  the  deed  from  himself  to 
them.     Since  the  sons  have  fled,  Macbeth,  as  next  heir, 


Comments  THE   TRAGEDY   OF 

is  crowned  king  of  Scotland.     The  third  prediction  of 
the  witches  is  accompHshed. 

III.  ^Macbeth,  however,  is  unsatisfied.  He  bethinks 
himself  that  Banquo  also  w^as  promised  something  by  the 
Weird  Sisters — namely,  that  his  children  shall  one  day 
mount  the  throne.  The  thought  is  galling  to  Macbeth, 
who  wishes  to  make  the  crown  secure  for  his  own  pos- 
terity. He  plots  to  kill  Banquo  and  his  only  son,  Fle- 
ance.  To  further  the  plot  he  makes  a  great  feast  and 
invites  Banquo  and  Fleance  particularly.  On  their  way 
thither  they  are  w^aylaid  and  Banquo  is  slain  by  murder- 
ers in  Macbeth's  employ,  but  Fleance  escapes. 

While  the  slain  Banquo's  blood  is  yet  warm  and  flow- 
ing, Macbeth's  feast  is  spread.  It  is  indeed  a  regal  re- 
past, and  King  Macbeth  himself  says  that  but  one  fea- 
ture is  lacking — the  presence  of  his  chief  guest,  Banquo. 
This  he  says  to  divert  suspicion,  for  he  has  already  re- 
ceived news  of  Banquo's  violent  end.  But  scarcely  has 
he  uttered  the  words  when  the  ghost  of  Banquo  appears 
at  Macbeth's  seat.  No  one  sees  him  save  Macbeth,  but 
his  alarm  causes  the  banquet  to  break  up  in  confusion. 

IV.  ]\Iacbeth,  harried  by  doubts  and  fears,  resolves 
upon  and  obtains  another  interview  with  the  wntches. 
He  is  warned  to  beware  of  ]\Iacduff;  he  is  promised  that 
"none  of  woman  born  shall  harm  Macbeth";  he  is 
advised  to  fear  naught  till  Birnam  wood  shall  come 
against  him.  Still  unsatisfied,  he  demands  again  to 
know  if  Banquo's  issue  shall  reign  in  the  kingdom,  and 
from  wdiat  the  witches  show  he  becomes  convinced  that 
the  crown  is  assigned  to  them.  The  first  news  that 
greets  him  upon  leaving  the  witches  is  that  ]\Iacduff  has 
escaped  to  England  to  join  forces  wath  Malcolm,  the  late 
king's  eldest  son.  Enraged,  ^Macbeth  storms  MacdufT's 
castle  and  puts  Lady  Macduff  and  her  children  to  the 
sword. 

V.  The  queen  meanwhile  is  almost  insane  over  the 

8 


MACBETH  Comments 

thought  of  her  own  share  in  Macbeth's  crimes.  She 
walks  in  her  sleep  and  endeavors  to  wash  imaginary 
blood-stains  from  her  hands.  Finally  she  expires,  *'  as 
'tis  thought,  by  self  and  violent  hands." 

^Macbeth  also  is  growing  tired  of  life,  but  the  hag's 
last  prophecies  spur  him  to  renewed  effort.  He  is  al- 
most unmanned,  therefore,  when  word  is  brought  that 
Birnam  wood  is  moving  against  him;  for  this  was  one 
of  the  apparently  impossible  threats  of  the  witches.  The 
moving  woods  were  really  branches  of  the  trees  of  Bir- 
nam lopped  of¥  and  carried  by  the  invading  troops  of 
Malcolm  and  Macdufif  to  protect  their  advance  against 
him.  Still  Macbeth  believes  himself  invulnerable,  and 
fearing  none  save  one  "  that  was  not  born  of  woman," 
he  rushes  forth  to  battle.  He  fights  with  almost  super- 
human strength  and  valor  till  he  meets  Macduff,  against 
whom  he  remembers  that  he  has  been  warned  by  the 
witches.  At  first  he  shrinks  from  fighting  Macduff,  but 
when  brought  to  bay,  exclaims :  "  I  bear  a  charmed  life, 
which  must  not  yield  to  one  of  woman  born."  "  De- 
spair thy  charm,"  retorts  his  foe,  "  Macduff  was  from 
his  mother's  womb  untimely  ripp'd."  And  in  the  ensu- 
ing duel  Macbeth  is  slain.  Malcolm  is  hailed  king  of 
Scotland.  McSpaddex:  Shakespearian  Synopses. 


II. 

Summary  of  the  Macbeth  Legend. 

Duncan,  by  his  m.other  Beatrice  a  grandson  of  Mal- 
colm n.,  succeeded  to  the  throne  on  his  grandfather's 
death,  in  1033:  he  reigned  only  six  years.  Macbeth,  his 
near  relation,  also  a  grandchild  of  ^Malcolm  H.,  though 
by  the  mother's  side,  was  stirred  up  by  ambition  to  con- 
test the  throne  with  the  possessor.  The  Lady  of  Mac- 
beth also,  whose  real  name  was  Graoch,  had  deadly  in- 
juries to  avenge  on  the  reigning  prince.     She  was  the 


Comments  THE   TRAGEDY   OF 

granddaughter  of  Kenneth  IV.,  killed  1003,  fighting 
against  Malcolm  11. ;  and  other  causes  for  revenge  ani- 
mated the  mind  of  her  who  has  been  since  painted  as 
the  sternest  of  women.  The  old  annalists  add  some  in- 
stigations of  a  supernatural  kind  to  the  influence  of  a 
vindictive  woman  over  an  ambitious  husband.  Three 
women,  of  more  than  human  stature  and  beauty,  ap- 
peared to  Macbeth  in  a  dream  or  vision,  and  hailed  him 
successively  by  the  titles  of  Thane  of  Cromarty,  Thane 
of  Moray,  which  the  king  afterwards  bestowed  on  him, 
and  finally  by  that  of  King  of  Scots;  this  dream,  it  is 
said,  inspired  him  with  the  seductive  hopes  so  well  ex- 
pressed in  the  drama. 

Macbeth  broke  no  law  of  hospitality  in  his  attempt 
on  Duncan's  life.  He  attacked  and  slew  the  king  at  a 
place  called  Bothgowan,  or  the  Smith's  House,  near 
Elgin,  in  1039,  and  not,  as  has  been  supposed,  in  his 
own  castle  of  Inverness.  The  act  was  bloody,  as  was 
the  complexion  of  the  times ;  but,  in  very  truth,  the  claim 
of  Macbeth  to  the  throne,  according  to  the  rule  of  Scot- 
tish succession,  was  better  than  that  of  Duncan.  As  a 
king,  the  tyrant  so  much  exclaimed  against  was,  in  real- 
ity, a  firm,  just,  and  equitable  prince.  Apprehensions  of 
danger  from  a  party  which  Malcolm,  the  eldest  son  of 
the  slaughtered  Duncan,  had  set  on  *foot  in  Northum- 
berland, and  still  maintained  in  Scotland,  seem,  in  pro- 
cess of  time,  to  have  soured  the  temper  of  Macbeth,  and 
rendered  him  formidable  to  his  nobility.  Against  Mac- 
dufif,  in  particular,  the  powerful  Maormor  of  Fife,  he  had 
uttered  some  threats  which  occasioned  that  chief  to  fly 
from  the  court  of  Scotland.  Urged  by  this  new  coun- 
sellor, Siward,  the  Danish  Earl  of  Northumberland,  in- 
vaded Scotland  in  the  year  1054,  displaying  his  banner  in 
behalf  of  the  banished  Malcolm.  Macbeth  engaged  the 
foe  in  the  neighborhood  of  his  celebrated  castle  of  Dun- 
sinane.  He  was  defeated,  but  escaped  from  the  battle, 
and  was  slain  at  Lumphanan  in  1056. 

Sir  Walter  Scott. 
10 


MACBETH  Comments 

III. 

Macbeth. 

This  drama  shows  us  the  gathering,  the  discharge,  and 
the  dispelhng  of  a  domestic  and  poUtical  storm,  which 
takes  its  pecuHar  view  from  the  individual  character  of 
the  hero.  It  is  not  in  the  spirit  of  mischief  that  animates 
the  ''  weird  sisters,"  nor  in  the  passionate  and  strong- 
willed  ambition  of  Lady  Macbeth,  that  we  find  the  main- 
spring of  this  tragedy,  but  in  the  disproportioned  though 
poetically  tempered  soul  of  Macbeth  himself.  A  char- 
acter like  this,  of  extreme  selfishness,  with  a  most  irri- 
table fancy,  must  produce,  even  in  ordinary  circum- 
stances, an  excess  of  morbid  apprehen^iveness;  wdiich, 
however,  as  we  see  in  him,  is  not  inconsistent  with  the 
greatest  physical  courage,  but  generates  of  necessity  the 
most  entire  moral  cowardice.  When,  therefore,  a  man 
like  this,  ill  enough  qualified  even  for  the  honest  and 
straightforward  transactions  of  life,  has  brought  himself 
to  snatch  at  an  ambitious  object  by  the  commission  of 
one  great  sanguinary  crime,  the  new  and  false  position 
in  which  he  finds  himself  by  his  very  success  will  but 
startle  and  exasperate  him  to  escape,  as  Alacbeth  says, 
from  "  horrible  imaginings "  by  the  perpetration  of 
greater  and  greater  actual  horrors,  till  inevitable  de- 
struction comes  upon  us  amidst  universal  execration. 
Such,  briefly,  are  the  story  and  the  moral  of  Macbeth. 
The  passionate  ambition  and  indomitable  will  of  his  lady, 
though  agents  indispensable  to  urge  such  a  man  to  the 
one  decisive  act  which  is  to  compromise  him  in  his  own 
opinion  and  that  of  the  world,  are  by  no  means  primary 
springs  of  the  dramatic  action.  Nor  do  the  "  \yeird  sis- 
ters "  themselves  do  more  than  aid  collaterally  in  impel- 
ling a  man,  the  inherent  evil  of  whose  nature  and  purpose 
has  predisposed  him  to  take  their  equivocal  suggestions 
in  the  most  mischievous  sense.  And,  finally,  the  very 
thunder-cloud  which,  from  the  beginning  almost  to  the 

n 


Comments  THE  TRAGEDY   OF 

ending,  wraps  this  fearful  tragedy  in  physical  darkness 
and  lurid  glare,  does  but  reflect  and  harmonize  with  the 
moral  blackness  of  the  piece.      ... 

The  very  starting-point  for  an  inquiry  into  the  real, 
inherent,  and  habitual  nature  of  Macbeth,  independent 
of  those  particular  circumstances  which  form  the  action 
of  the  play,  lies  manifestly,  though  the  critics  have  com- 
monly overlooked  it,  in  the  question.  With  whom  does 
the  scheme  of  usurping  the  Scottish  crown  by  the  mur- 
der of  Duncan  actually  originate?  We  sometimes  find 
Lady  Macbeth  talked  of  as  if  she  were  the  first  contriver 
of  the  plot,  and  suggester  of  the  assassination;  but  this 
notion  is  refuted,  not  only  by  implication,  in  the  whole 
tenor  of  the  piece,  but  most  explicitly  in  I.  vii.  48-52. 
Alost  commonly,  however,  the  zi'itcJics  (as  we  find  the 
"  weird  sisters  "  pertinaciously  miscalled  by  all  sorts  of 
players  and  of  critics)  have  borne  the  imputation  of  be- 
ing the  first  to  put  this  piece  of  mischief  in  the  hero's 
mind.  Yet  the  prophetic  words  in  which  the  attainment 
of  royalty  is  promised  him  contain  not  the  remotest  hint 
as  to  the  means  by  which  he  is  to  arrive  at  it.  They 
are  simply  "  All  hail,  Macbeth !  that  shalt  be  king  here- 
after " — an  announcement  which,  it  is  plain,  should  have 
rather  inclined  a  man  who  was  not  already  harbouring 
a  scheme  of  guilty  ambition  to  wait  quietly  the  course 
of  events.  According  to  Macbeth's  own  admission,  the 
words  of  the  "  weird  sisters  "  on  this  occasion  convey 
anything  rather  than  an  incitement  to  murder  to  the 
mind  of  a  man  who  is  not  meditating  it  already.  This 
supernatural  soliciting  is  only  made  such  to  the  mind  of 
Alacbeth  by  the  fact  that  he  is  already  occupied  with  a 
purpose  of  assassination. 

Fletcher:  Studies  of  SJiakcspcarc. 


Macbeth's  doubts  and  difficulties,  his  shrinkings  and 
misgivings,  spring  from  the  peculiar  structure  and  move- 
ment of  his  intellect,  as   sympathetically  inflamed  and 


12 


MACBETH  Comments 

wrought  upon  by  the  poison  of  meditated  guilt.  His 
whole  state  of  man  suffers  an  insurrection;  conscience 
forthwith  sets  his  understanding  and  imagination  into 
morbid,  irregular,  convulsive  action,  insomuch  that  the 
former  disappears  in  the  tempestuous  agitation  of 
thought  which  itself  stirs  vip:  his  will  is  buffeted  and 
staggered  with  prudential  reasonings  and  fantastical 
terrors,  both  of  which  are  self-generated  out  of  his  dis- 
ordered and  unnatural  state  of  mind.  Here  begins  his 
long  and  fatal  course  of  self-delusion.  He  misderives 
his  scruples,  misplaces  his  apprehensions,  mistranslates 
the  whispers  and  wTithings  of  conscience  into  the  sug- 
gestions of  prudence,  the  forecastings  of  reason,  the 
threatenings  of  danger.  His  strong  and  excitable  im- 
agination, set  on  fire  of  conscience,  fascinates  and  spell- 
binds the  other  faculties,  and  so  gives  an  objective  force 
and  effect  to  its  internal  workings.  Under  this  guilt- 
begotten  hallucination  "  present  fears  are  less  than  hor- 
rible imaginings."  Thus,  instead  of  acting  directly  in 
the  form  of  remorse,  conscience  comes  to  act  circuit- 
ously  through  imaginary  terrors,  which  again  react  on 
the  conscience,  as  fire  is  kept  burning  by  the  current  of 
air  which  itself  generates.  Hence  his  apparent  freedom 
from  compunctious  visitings  even  when  he  is  really  most 
subject  to  them.  It  is  probably  from  oversight  of  this 
that  some  have  set  him  down  as  a  timid,  cautious,  re- 
morseless villain,  withheld  from  crime  only  by  a  shrink- 
ing, selfish  apprehensiveness.  He  does  indeed  seem 
strangely  dead  to  the  guilt  and  morbidly  alive  to  the 
dangers  of  his  enterprise;  free  from  remorses  of  con- 
science, and  filled  with  imaginary  fears:  but  whence  his 
imcontrollable  irritability  of  imagination?  how  comes  it 
that  his  mind  so  swarms  with  horrible  imaginings,  but 
that  his  imagination  itself  is  set  on  fire  of  heU?  So  that 
he  seems  remorseless,  because  in  his  mind  the  agonies  of 
remorse  project  and  translate  themselves  into  the  spec- 
tres of  a  conscience-stricken  imagination. 

Hudson:  The  Works  of  Shakespeare. 


Comments  THE   TRAGEDY   OF 

We  are  sometimes  told  that  Shakespeare  did  not  in- 
tend to  make  Macbeth  a  psychological  study;  he  did 
make  him  so,  and  it  is  sufficient  that  we  find  his  intent 
in  the  result.  .  .  .  The  poetic  mind  on  which  the 
presages  and  suggestions  of  supernatural  things  could 
work:  a  nature  sensitive,  intellectual  emotion,  so  that 
one  can  imagine  him  even  in  his  contemplation  of  com- 
ing crimes  weeping  for  the  pain  of  the  destined  victim; 
self-torturing,  self-examination,  playing  with  conscience, 
so  that  action  and  reaction  of  poetic  thought  might  send 
emotional  waves  through  the  brain  while  the  resolution 
was  as  grimly  fixed  as  steel  and  the  heart  as  cold  as  ice; 
a  poet  supreme  in  the  power  of  words,  with  vivid  imagi- 
nation and  glowing  sympathy  of  intellect;  a  villain,  cold- 
blooded, selfish,  remorseless,  with  the  true  villain's  nerve 
and  callousness  when  pressed  to  evil  work,  and  the  phys- 
ical heroism  of  those  who  are  born  to  kill;  a  moral  na- 
ture with  only  sufficient  weakness  to  quail  (?)  momen- 
tarily before  superstitious  terrors;  a  man  of  sentiment 
and  not  of  feeling — such  was  the  mighty  dramatic  char- 
acter which  Shakespeare  gave  to  the  world  in  Macbeth. 
Irving:  The  Character  of  Macbeth. 

IV. 

Character  of  Lady  Macbeth. 

Lady  Macbeth,  like  all  in  Shakespeare,  is  a  class  indi- 
vidualized:— of  high  rank,  left  much  alone,  an.d  feeding 
herself  with  day-dreams  of  ambition,  she  mistakes  the 
courage  of  fantasy  for  the  power  of  bearing  the  con- 
sequences of  the  realities  of  guilt.  Hers  is  the  mock 
fortitude  of  a  mind  deluded  by  ambition;  she  shames  her 
husband  with  a  superhuman  audacity  of  fancy  which  she 
cannot  support,  but  sinks  in  the  season  of  remorse,  and 
dies  in  suicidal  agony.     Her  speech : — 

Come,  you  spirits 
That  tend  on  mortal  thoughts,  unsex  mc  here,  etc. 

14 


MACBETH  Comments 

is  that  of  one  who  had  habitually  familiarized  her  imagi- 
nation to  dreadful  conceptions,  and  was  trying  to  do  so 
still  more.  Her  invocations  and  requisitions  are  all  the 
false  eftorts  of  a  mind  accustomed  only  hitherto  to  the 
shadows  of  the  imagination,' vivid  enough  to  throw  the 
every-day  substances  of  life  into  shadow,  but  never  as 
yet  brought  into  direct  contact  with  their  own  corre- 
spondent realities. 

Coleridge:  Azotes  and  Lectures  upon  Sliakespeare. 


It  is  particularly  observable  that  in  Lady  ]\Iacbeth's 
concentrated,  strong-nerved  ambition,  the  ruling  pas- 
sion of  her  mind,  there  is  yet  a  touch  of  womanhood: 
she  is  ambitious  less  for  herself  than  for  her  husband. 
It  is  fair  to  think  this,  because  we  have  no  reason  to  draw 
any  other  inference  either  from  her  words  or  her  actions. 
In  her  famous  soliloquy,  after  reading  her  husband's  let- 
ter, she  does  not  once  refer  to  herself.  It  is  of  him  she 
thinks:  she  wishes  to  see  her  husband  on  the  throne,  and 
to  place  the  sceptre  within  his  grasp.  The  strength  of 
her  affection  adds  strength  to  her  ambition.  Although 
in  the  old  story  of  Boethius  we  are  told  that  the  wife  of 
Macbeth  *'  burned  with  unquenchable  desire  to  bear  the 
name  of  queen,"  yet  in  the  aspect  under  which  Shake- 
speare has  represented  the  character  to  us  the  selfish 
part  of  this  ambition  is  kept  out  of  sight.  We  must 
remark  also,  that  in  Lady  Macbeth's  reflections  on  her 
husband's  character,  and  on  that  milkiness  of  nature 
which  she  fears  "  may  impede  him  from  the  golden 
round,"  there  is  no  indication  of  female  scorn:  there  is 
exceeding  pride,  but  no  egotism,  in  the  sentiment  or  th^ 
expression;  no  want  of  wifely  or  womanly  respect  and 
love  for  him,  but,  on  the  contrary,  a  sort  of  unconscious- 
ness of  her  own  mental  superiority,  which  she  betrays 
rather  than  asserts,  as  interesting  in  itself  as  it  is  most 
admirably  conceived  and  delineated.  Nor  is  there  any- 
thing vulgar  in   her  ambition;  as  the   strength   of  her 

15 


Comments  THE  TRAGEDY  OF 

affections  lends  to  it  something  profound  and  concen- 
trated, so  her  splendid  imagination  invests  the  object  of 
her  desire  with  its  own  radiance.  We  cannot  trace  in 
her  grand  and  capacious  mind  that  it  is  the  mere  baubles 
and  trappings  of  royalty  which  dazzle  and  allure  her: 
hers  is  the  sin  of  the  "  star-bright  apostate/'  and  she 
plunges  wdth  her  husband  into  the  abyss  of  guilt  to  pro- 
cure for  "  all  their  days  and  nights  sole  sovereign  sway 
and  masterdom."  She  revels,  she  luxuriates,  in  her 
dream  of  power.  She  reaches  at  the  golden  diadem 
which  is  to  sear  her  brain;  she  perils  life  and  soul  for 
its  attainment,  with  an  enthusiasm  as  perfect,  a  faith  as 
settled,  as  that  of  the  martyr  who  sees  at  the  stake 
heaven  and  its  crowns  of  glory  opening  upon  him.  .  .  . 
Lady  Macbeth  having  proposed  the  object  to  herself, 
and  arrayed  it  with  an  ideal  glory,  fixes  her  eye  steadily 
upon  it,  soars  far  above  all  womanish  feelings  and 
scruples  to  attain  it,  and  stoops  upon  her  victim  with  the 
strength  and  velocity  of  a  vulture;  but  having  committed 
unflinchingly  the  crime  necessary  for  the  attainment  of 
her  purpose,  she  stops  there.  After  the  murder  of  Dun- 
can, we  see  Lady  Macbeth,  during  the  rest  of  the  play, 
occupied  in  supporting  the  nervous  w^eakness  and  sus- 
taining the  fortitude  of  her  husband.  .  .  .  But  she 
is  nowhere  represented  as  urging  him  on  to  new  crimes ; 
so  far  from  it  that,  when  Macbeth  darkly  hints  his  pur- 
posed assassination  of  Banquo,  and  she  inquires  his 
meaning,  he  replies. 

Be  innocent  of  the  knowledge,  dearest  chuck. 
Till  thou  approve  the  deed. 

The  same  may  be  said  of  the  destruction  of  Macduff's 
familv.  Every  one  must  perceive  how  our  detestation  of 
the  woman  had  been  increased,  if  she  had  been  placed 
before  us  as  suggesting  and  abetting  those  additional 
cruelties  into  which  Macbeth  is  hurried  by  his  mental 
cowardice. 

Lastly,  it  is  clear  that  in  a  mind  constituted  like  that 

i6 


MACBETH  Comments 

of  Lady  Macbeth  conscience  must  wake  some  time  or 
other,  and  bring  with  it  remorse  closed  by  despair,  and 
despair  by  death.  This  great  moral  retribution  was  to 
be  displayed  to  us — but  how?  Lady  Alacbeth  is  not  a 
woman  to  start  at  shadows ;  she  mocks  at  air-drawn  dag- 
gers; she  sees  no  imagined  spectres  rise  from  the  tomb 
to  appal  or  accuse  her.  The  towering  bravery  of  Jicr 
mind  disdains  the  visionary  terrors  which  haunt  her 
weaker  husband.  We  know,  or  rather  feel,  that  she 
who  could  give  a  voice  to  the  most  direful  intent,  and 
call  on  the  spirits  that  wait  on  mortal  thoughts  to  "  unsex 
her,"  and  "  stop  up  all  access  and  passage  of  remorse  " — 
to  that  remorse  would  have  given  nor  tongue  nor  sound; 
and  that  rather  than  have  uttered  a  complaint,  she  would 
have  held  her  breath  and  died.  To  have  given  her  a 
confidant,  though  in  the  partner  of  her  guilt,  would  have 
been  a  degrading  resource,  and  have  disappointed  and 
enfeebled  all  our  previous  impressions  of  her  character; 
yet  justice  is  to  be  done,  and  we  are  to  be  made  ac- 
quainted with  that  which  the  woman  herself  would  have 
suffered  a  thousand  deaths  rather  than  have  betrayed. 
In  the  sleeping  scene  we  have  a  glimpse  into  the  depths 
of  that  inward  hell. 

Mrs.  Jameson:  Characteristics  of  Women. 


To  make  and  share  a  husband's  fortune  was  her  [Lady 
Macbeth's]  only  motive,  and  the  only  driving-power  she 
could  supply  to  that  was  love:  her  character  was  most 
inartificially  contrived  out  of  one  or  two  broad  elements 
of  womankind;  a  Semele  to  invite  the  solar  ray  that  con- 
sumed her.     To  be  a  woman  was  her  sole  resource. 

Let  us  notice,  therefore,  how  prompt  was  her  first  in- 
spiration, and  how  quickly  it  recoiled  exhausted  from  its 
terrible  victory. 

A  full-blooded  virago  who  has  murder  in  her  heart, 
but  supposes  that  any  chance  to  commit  it  is  a  long  way 

17 


Comments  THE   TRAGEDY   OF 

off,  would  not  betray  emotion  if  Fate  suddenly  tossed  a 
chance  into  her  lap.  Lady  Macbeth's  nerves  are  not 
well  padded  against  such  a  shock.  The  husband's  letter 
astonishes  and  exalts  her  soul;  but  the  old  desires,  never 
before  so  animated,  seem  fruitless  as  ever,  since  neither 
time  nor  place  concur.  In  the  height  of  this  turmoil, 
an  attendant  enters  to  say,  "  The  king  comes  here  to- 
night." The  tidings  appal  her:  has  Providence  gone 
mad,  to  trust  Duncan  with  her  in  this  temper?  The 
man  is  mad  to  say  it.  Coming!  To-night!  ''And 
when  goes  hence?"  Her  looks  and  speech  recoil  from 
the  coincidence.  Then  she  breaks  into  that  soliloquy 
which  is  not  the  ranting  of  a  mannish  murderess  who 
is  in  a  frenzy  to  get  at  her  victim.  The  Hues  quiver 
with  the  excitement  of  a  delicate  nature  that  is  over- 
strained and  dreads  to  fail.  Vexed  and  chagrined  at 
womanly  proclivities  which  will  be  apt  to  follow  their 
bent  against  her  purpose,  she  invokes  spirits  to  unsex 
her,  to  make  thick  the  blood  that  runs  too  limpidly  and 
warm,  and  clot  '*  the  access  and  passage  to  remorse." 
It  fills  us  with  dismay  to  see  how  far  a  susceptible 
womanhood  can  be  transported  by  a  vehement  pas- 
sion. 

She  does  not  give  Macbeth  time  to  observe  that  to 
murder  Duncan  will  exact  of  him  the  murder  of  Mal- 
colm also,  who  is  designated  by  the  king  to  succeed  him. 
She  is  in  no  temper  to  reflect  that  the  taking-off  of 
Duncan  will  plunge  the  husband  into  ever-renewing 
complications:  her  transport  carries  him  away  to  fruitless 
crime.  But  the  first  blow  spends  her  terrible  ardor  and 
disenchants  her  of  murder.  She  can  force  it  upon  her 
husband,  but  is  not  endowed  with  the  complexly  woven 
tissue  of  talents  and  motives  that  can  sustain  reaction. 
His  muscle  drags  him  through  successive  scenes  of 
feigning,  inures  him  to  the  contemplation  of  fresh  mur- 
ders, and  keeps  his  foot  well  planted  to  thrust  and  parry 
the  foes  of  his  own  making.  She  is  all  made  for  love, 
and  for  the  uttermost  that  love  can  suggest :  there  is  no 

i8 


MACBETH  Comments 

masculine  fiber  in  her  heart;  it  is  packed  with  the  in- 
visible, fine-strung  nerves  of  a  feminine  disposition. 
And  they  have  been  stretched  to  such  a  tension  that, 
since  no  solider  flesh  sheathes  and  protects  them  as  they 
relax,  we  see  them  ravelled:  they  no  longer  sustain  the 
firm  heart-beat  and  regulate  the  blood.  There  are 
symptoms,  even  before  the  murder  is  committed,  that 
her  strength  threatens  to  be  inadequate.  She  must 
have  recourse  to  wine,  to  borrow  courage  from  it  that 
may  last  till  morning;  and  her  mood  is  so  intense  that 
the  light  body  can  absorb  large  draughts  of  it. 

"  That  which  hath  made  them  drunk  hath  made  me  bold."     .     .     . 

This  fascination  of  spilt  blood,  this  woman's  instinct 
to  see  her  husband  through  the  first  surprise,  this  dread 
of  some  defect  in  his  behaviour,  this  soHcitude  to  repair 
it  by  some  spirit  of  her  own,  takes  her  into  a  scene  which 
deals  one  stroke  too  much  upon  her  emotion.  For  the 
morn  broke  rapidly,  as  if  to  resent  the  criminal  advan- 
tage which  the  midnight  took.  She  has  had  no  chance 
to  calculate  what  efifect  this  murder  will  have  upon 
human  sensibilities  when  they  are  taken  by  it  unawares. 
She  sees  the  awfulness  of  it  suddenly  reflected  from  the 
faces  and  gestures  of  MacdufY,  Banquo,  and  the  rest. 
It  beats  at  the  gate,  across  which  she  has  braced  a 
woman's  arm,  and  breaks  it  in;  and  a  mob  of  reproaches 
rush  over  her.  What  have  those  delicate  hands  been 
doing?  What  is  this  hideous  issue  of  her  slender  body, 
just  born,  stark  naked,  in  the  horror  of  these  men? 
Nature,  in  making  her,  was  so  little  in  the  male  mood,  so 
intently  following  the  woman's  model,  that  it  left  out 
the  element  which  carries  Macbeth  through  this  scene. 
"Help  me  hence,  ho!"  her  sex  cries.  It  is 
the  revulsion  of  nature  in  a  feminine  soul.  Love  has 
exhaled  all  its  hardihood  into  the  deed  which  is  just  now 
discovered.      ... 

Her  fortitude  just  eked  her  out  to  reach  the  gracious 
action  that  dismissed  the  guests,  as  she  wished  "  A  kind 

19 


Comments  THE  TRAGEDY   OF 

good-night  to  all!  "  Yes,  good-night  to  all — to  us  also. 
She  gains  the  shelter  of  her  chamber:  then  she  entirely 
disappears  from  the  action  of  the  tragedy,  to  sicken  in 
seclusion  with  the  consciousness  that  her  fatal  love  has 
purveyed  successive  murders  for  her  household.  She 
can  be  of  no  further  use  to  Shakespeare  now:  such  a 
terrible  requisition  of  genius  has  exhausted  her;  she  is 
removed  from  our  view  and  consigned  to  the  offices  of 
women.  For  the  courage  that  was  screwed  to  the  stick- 
ing-place  was  screwed  by  love's  wrest  one  turn  too  far. 
But  another  kind  of  woman — massive,  cruel,  prompted 
by  unmixed  ambition,  guided  by  pure  hatefulness — 
would  have  had  no  trouble  in  assuming  the  dogged  reso- 
lution with  which  ^Macbeth  began  henceforth  to  outface 
Fate.  Not  so  this  soul,  who  has  known  "  how  tender 
'tis  to  love  the  babe  "  that  milks  her. 

So,  not  long  after,  a  cry  of  women  struggles  through 
the  castle,  and  bids  Macbeth's  desperate  engrossment 
know  that  the  "  brief  candle  "  of  her  night-walking  sor- 
row has  gone  out.  He  has  no  time  to  permit  his  queen 
to  die,  but  she  has  slipped  from  his  arms.  Alas!  another 
shape  of  Nature's  womanhood  by  Nature  destroyed. 
Malcolm  may  suspect  that  she  destroyed  herself,  but 
Shakespeare  furnished  no  pretext  for  that  palace  rumour. 
And  it  so  disconcerts  the  pathos  which  he  intended 
should  accumulate  around  the  temper  of  her  crime  that 
many  commentators  suspect  the  scene,  upon  this  and 
other  considerations,  of  having  been  tampered  with. 
Malcolm  may  call  her  ''  fiend-like,"  if  he  will.  'Tis  par- 
donably honest  EngHsh  from  a  son  who  slept  one  night 
so  near  to  a  murdered  father.  What  was  to  Malcolm  a 
righteous  phrasing  of  the  deed  does  not  cover  Shake- 
speare's implication  of  the  mood  which  led  to  it.  The 
great  poet  delivers  to  us  a  sprig  of  rosemary,  for  re- 
membrance of  Nature  in  a  woman,  but  enjoins  us  to  tie 
it  up  with  rue. 

Weiss:  Wit,  Humor,  and  Shakspeare, 


20 


MACBETH  Comments 


Lady  Macbeth's  Influence  Over  Her 
Husband. 

Macbeth  is  excitably  imaginative,  and  his  imagination 
ahernately  stimulates  and  enfeebles  him.  The  facts  in 
their  clear-cut  outline  disappear  in  the  dim  atmosphere 
of  surmise,  desire,  fear,  hope,  which  the  spirit  of  Mac- 
beth effuses  around  the  fact.  But  his  wife  sees  things 
in  the  clearest  and  most  definite  outline.  Her  delicate 
frame  is  filled  with  high-strung  nervous  energy.  With 
her  to  perceive  is  forthwith  to  decide,  to  decide  is  to  act. 
Having  resolved  upon  her  end,  a  practical  logic  con- 
vinces her  that  the  means  are  implied  and  determined. 
Macbeth  resolves,  and  falters  back  from  action;  now  he 
is  restrained  by  his  imagination,  now  by  his  fears,  now 
by  lingering  velleities  towards  a  loyal  and  honourable 
existence.  He  is  unable  to  keep  in  check  or  put  under 
restraint  any  one  of  the  various  incoherent  powers  of  his 
nature,  which  impede  and  embarrass  each  the  action  of 
the  other.  Lady  Macbeth  gains,  for  the  time,  sufficient 
strength  by  throwing  herself  passionately  into  a  single 
purpose,  and  by  resolutely  repressing  all  that  is  incon- 
sistent with  that  purpose.  Into  the  service  of  evil  she 
carries  some  of  the  intensity  and  energy  of  asceticism — 
she  cuts  off  from  herself  her  better  nature,  she  yields  no 
weak  paltering  with  conscience.  "  I  have  given  suck," 
she  exclaims,  "  and  know  how  tender  'tis  to  love  the 
babe  that  milks  me";  she  is  unable  to  stab  Duncan  be- 
cause he  resembles  her  father  in  his  sleep;  she  is  ap- 
palled by  the  copious  blood  in  which  the  old  man  lies, 
and  the  horror  of  the  sight  cHngs  to  her  memory;  the 
smell  of  the  blood  is  hateful  to  her  and  almost  insupport- 
able; she  had  not  been  without  apprehension  that  her 
feminine  nature  might  fail  to  carry  her  through  the  ter- 
rible ordeal,  through  which  she  yet  resolved  that  it 
should  be  compelled  to  pass.     She  must  not  waste  an 

21 


Comments  THE   TRAGEDY   OF 

atom  of  her  strength  of  will,  which  has  to  serve  for  two 
murderers — for  her  husband  as  well  as  for  herself.  She 
puts  into  requisition  with  the  aid  of  wine  and  of  stimu- 
lant words  the  reserve  of  nervous  force  which  lay  un- 
used. No  witches  have  given  her  "Hail";  no  airy 
dagger  marshals  her  the  way  she  is  going;  nor  is  she 
afterwards  haunted  by  the  terrible  vision  of  Banquo's 
gory  head.  As  long  as  her  will  remains  her  own  she 
can  throw  herself  upon  external  facts,  and  maintain  her- 
self in  relation  with  the  definite,  actual  surroundings;  it 
is  in  her  sleep,  when  the  will  is  incapable  of  action,  that 
she  is  persecuted  by  the  past  which  perpetually  renews 
itself,  not  in  ghostly  shapes,  but  by  the  imagined  recur- 
rence of  real  and  terrible  incidents. 

The  fears  of  Lady  Macbeth  upon  the  night  of  Dun- 
can's murder  are  the  definite  ones  that  the  murderers 
may  be  detected,  that  some  omission  in  the  pre-arranged 
plan  may  occur,  that  she  or  her  husband  may  be  sum- 
moned to  appear  before  the  traces  of  their  crime  have 
been  removed.  More  awful  considerations  would  press 
in  upon  her  and  overwhelm  her  sanity,  but  that  she 
forcibly  repels  them  for  the  time: 

These  deeds  must  not  be  thought 
After  these  ways ;  so,  it  will  make  us  mad. 

To  her  the  sight  of  Duncan  dead  is  as  terrible  as  to  Mac- 
beth; but  she  takes  the  daggers  from  her  husband;  and 
with  a  forced  jest,  hideous  in  the  self-violence  which  it 
impHes,  she  steps  forth  into  the  dark  corridor: 

If  he  do  bleed 
I'll  gild  the  faces  of  the  grooms  withal, 
For  it  must  seem  their  guilt. 

*'  A  play  of  fancy  here  is  like  a  gleam  of  ghastly  sun- 
shine striking  across  a  stormy  landscape."  The  knock- 
ing at  the  gate  clashes  upon  her  overstrained  nerves  and 
thrills  her;  but  she  has   determination  and  energy  to 

22 


MACBETH  Comments 

direct  the  actions  of  Macbeth,  and  rouse  him  from  the 
mood  of  abject  depression  which  succeeded  his  crime. 
A  white  flame  of  resolution  glows  through  her  delicate 
organization,  like  light  through  an  alabaster  lamp: 

Infirm  of  purpose ! 
Give  me  the  daggers  :  the  sleeping  and  the  dead 
Are  but  as  pictures :  'tis  the  eye  of  childhood 
That  fears  a  painted  devil. 

If  the  hold  which  she  possesses  over  her  own  faculties 
should  relax  for  a  moment,  all  would  be  lost.  For 
dreadful  deeds  anticipated  and  resolved  upon,  she  has 
strength,  but  the  surprise  of  a  novel  horror,  on  which 
she  has  not  counted,  deprives  her  suddenly  of  conscious- 
ness; when  Macbeth  announces  his  butchery  of  Duncan's 
grooms,  the  lady  swoons — not  in  feigning  but  in  fact — 
and  is  borne  away  insensible. 

Dowden:  Shakspere. 


VL 

The  Witches. 

The  old  watches  of  superstition  were  foul,  ugly,  mis- 
chievous beings,  generally  actuated  by  vulgar  envy  or 
hate;  not  so  much  wicked  as  mean,  and  therefore  apt  to 
excite  disgust,  but  not  to  inspire  terror  or  awe;  who 
could  inflict  injury,  but  not  guilt;  could  work  men's 
physical  ruin,  but  not  win  them  to  work  their  own 
spiritual  ruin.  The  Weird  Sisters  of  Shakespeare,  as 
hath  been  often  remarked,  are  essentially  different,  and 
are  beholden  to  them  for  little  if  anything  more  than 
the  drapery  of  the  representation.  Resembling  old 
women,  save  that  they  have  long  beards,  they  bubble  up 
in  human  shape,  but  own  no  human  relations;  are  with- 
out age,  or  sex,  or  kin;  without  birth  or  death;  passion- 

23 


Comments  THE  TRAGEDY   OF 

less  and  motiveless.  A  combination  of  the  terrible  and 
the  grotesque,  unlike  the  Furies  of  ^schylus  they  are 
petrific,  not  to  the  senses,  but  to  the  thoughts.  x\t  first, 
indeed,  on  merely  looking  at  them,  we  can  scarce  help 
laughing,  so  uncouth  and  grotesque  is  their  appearance; 
but  afterwards,  on  looking  into  them,  we  find  them  ter- 
rible beyond  description;  and  the  more  we  look,  the 
more  terrible  do  they  become:  the  blood  almost  curdhng 
in  our  veins,  as,  dancing  and  singing  their  infernal  glees 
over  embryo  murders,  they  unfold  to  our  thoughts  the 
cold,  passionless,  inexhaustible  malignity  and  deformity 
of  their  nature.  Towards  Alacbeth  they  have  nothing  of 
personal  hatred  or  revenge:  their  malice  is  of  a  higher 
strain,  and  savours  as  little  of  any  such  human  ranklings 
as  the  thunderstorms  and  elemental  perturbations  amidst 
which  they  come  and  go.  But  with  all  their  essential 
wickedness  there  is  nothing  gross,  or  vulgar,  or  sensual 
about  them.  They  are  the  very  purity  of  sin  incarnate; 
the  vestal  virgins,  so  to  speak,  of  hell;  in  whom  every- 
thing seems  reversed;  whose  ascent  is  downwards; 
whose  proper  eucharist  is  a  sacrament  of  evil;  and  the 
law  of  whose  being  is  violation  of  law! 

The  later  critics,  Coleridge  especially,  dwell  much  on 
what  they  conceive  to  be  the  most  distinctive  and  essen- 
tial feature  of  Shakespeare's  art,  affirming  it  to  be  the 
organic  involution  of  the  universal  in  the  particular;  that 
his  characters  are  classes  individualized;  that  his  men 
and  women  are  those  of  his  own  age  and  nation  indeed, 
yet  not  in  such  sort  but  that  they  are  equally  the  men 
and  women  of  all  ages  and  nations;  for  which  cause  they 
can  never  become  obsolete,  or  cease  to  be  natural  and 
true.  Herein  the  Weird  Sisters  are  thoroughly  Shake- 
spearian, there  being  nothing  in  his  whole  circle  of  char- 
acter wherein  this  method  of  art  is  more  profoundly 
exemplified.  ...  In  their  literal  character  the 
Weird  Sisters  answer  to  something  that  was,  and  is  not; 
in  their  symbolical  character  they  answer  to  something 
that  was,  and  is,  and  will  abide;  for  they  represent  the 

24 


MACBETH  Comments 

mysterious  action  and  reaction  between  the  evil  mind 
and  external  nature. 

For  the  external  world  serves  in  some  sort  as  a  look- 
ing-glass, wherein  man  beholds  the  image  of  his  fallen 
nature;  and  he  still  regards  that  image  as  his  friend  or 
his  foe,  and  so  parleys  with  it  or  turns  from  it,  according 
as  his  will  is  more  disposed  to  evil  or  to  good.  For  the 
evil  suggestions,  which  seem  to  us  written  in  the  face  or 
speaking  from  the  mouth  of  external  objects  and  occa- 
sions, are  in  reality  but  projections  from  our  own  evil 
hearts;  these  are  instances  wdierein  "we  do  receive  but 
what  we  give'';  the  things  we  look  upon  seem  inviting  us 
to  crime,  whereas  in  truth  our  wishes  construe  their  in- 
nocent meanings  into  wicked  invitations.  In  the  spirit 
and  virtue  of  which  principle  the  Weird  Sisters  symbolize 
the  inward  moral  history  of  each  and  every  man,  and 
therefore  may  be  expected  to  live  in  the  faith  of  reason 
so  long  as  the  present  moral  order  or  disorder  of  things 
shall  last.  So  that  they  may  be  aptly  enough  described 
as  poetical  or  mythical  impersonations  of  evil  influences. 
And  the  secret  of  their  power  over  Macbeth 
lies  mainly  in  that  they  present  to  him  his  embryo  wishes 
and  half-formed  thoughts :  at  one  time  they  harp  his  fear 
aright,  at  another  time  his  hope;  and  that,  too,  even  be- 
fore such  hope  and  fear  have  distinctly  reported  them- 
selves in  his  consciousness;  and  by  thus  harping  them, 
strengthen  them  into  resolution  and  develop  them  into 
act.  As  men  often  know  they  would  something,  yet 
know  not  clearly  what,  until  they  hear  it  spoken  by  an- 
other; and  sometimes  even  dream  of  being  told  things 
which  their  minds  have  been  tugging  at,  but  could  not 
put  into  words. 

All  which  may  serve  to  suggest  the  real  nature  and 
scope  of  the  effect  which  the  Weird  Sisters  have  on  the 
action  of  the  play. 

Hudson:   The  Works  of  Shakespeare. 


25 


Comments  THE  TRAGEDY  OF 

VII. 

Knocking  at  the  Gate. 

From  my  boyish  days  I  had  always  felt  a  great  per- 
plexity on  one  point  in  Macbeth.  It  was  this: — The 
knocking  at  the  gate  which  succeeds  to  the  murder  of 
Duncan  produced  to  my  feelings  an  effect  for  which  I 
never  could  account.  The  effect  was  that  it  reflected 
back  upon  the  murder  a  peculiar  awfulness  and  a  depth 
of  solemnity;  yet,  however  obstinately  I  endeavored  with 
my  understanding  to  comprehend  this,  for  many  years 
I  never  could  see  why  it  should  produce  such  an  effect. 
At  length  I  solved  it  to  my  ow^n  satisfaction; 
and  my  solution  is  this: — Murder,  in  ordinary  cases, 
where  the  sympathy  is  wholly  directed  to  the  case  of  the 
murdered  person,  is  an  incident  of  coarse  and  vulgar 
horror;  and  for  this  reason — that  it  flings  the  interest 
exclusively  upon  the  natural  but  ignoble  instinct  by 
which  we  cleave  to  life:  an  instinct  which,  as  being  in- 
dispensable to  the  primal  law  of  self-preservation,  is  the 
same  in  kind  (though  different  in  degree)  amongst  all 
living  creatures.  This  instinct,  therefore,  because  it  an- 
nihilates all  distinctions,  and  degrades  the  greatest  of 
men  to  the  level  of  the  ''poor  beetle  that  we  tread  on," 
exhibits  human  nature  in  its  most  abject  and  humiliating 
attitude.  Such  an  attitude  would  little  suit  the  purposes 
of  the  poet.  What  then  must  he  do?  He  must  throw 
the  interest  on  the  murderer.  Our  sympathy  must  be 
with  him  (of  course  I  mean  a  sympathy  of  comprehen- 
sion, a  sympathy  by  which  we  enter  into  his  feelings,  and 
are  made  to  understand  them — not  a  sympathy  of  pity  or 
approbation).  In  the  murdered  person,  all  strife  of 
thought,  all  flux  and  reflux  of  passion  and  of  purpose, 
are  crushed  by  one  overwhelming  panic;  the  fear  of  in- 
stant death  smites  him  "  with  its  petrific  mace."  But  in 
the  murderer,  such  a  murderer  as  a  poet  will  condescend 
to,  there  must  be  raging  some  great  storm  of  passion — 

26 


MACBETH  Comments 

jealousy,  ambition,  vengeance,  hatred — which  will  create 
a  hell  within  him;  and  into  this  hell  we  are  to  look. 
De  Quincey:  On  the  Knocking  at  the  Gate  in  Macbeth. 

VIII. 

Quality  of  the  Play. 

I  regard  Macbeth,  upon  the  whole,  as  the  greatest 
treasure  of  our  dramatic  literature.  We  may  look  as 
Britons  at  Greek  sculpture,  and  at  Italian  paintings, 
with  a  humble  consciousness  that  our  native  art  has 
never  reached  their  perfection;  but  in  the  drama  we  can 
confront  ylEschylus  himself  with  Shakespeare;  and  of  all 
modern  theatres,  ours  alone  can  compete  with  the  Greek 
in  the  unborrowed  nativeness  and  sublimity  of  its  super- 
stition. In  the  grandeur  of  tragedy  Macbeth  has  no 
parallel,  till  we  go  back  to  the  Prometheus  and  the  Furies 
of  the  Attic  stage.  I  could  even  produce,  if  it  were  not 
digressing  too  far  from  my  subject,  innumerable  in- 
stances of  striking  similarity  between  the  metaphorical 
mintage  of  Shakespeare's  and  of  ^schylus's  style — a 
similarity,  both  in  beauty  and  in  the  fault  of  excess,  that 
unless  the  contrary  had  been  proved,  would  lead  me  to 
suspect  our  great  dramatist  to  have  been  a  studious 
Greek  scholar.  But  their  resemblance  arose  from  the 
consanguinity  of  nature.  In  one  respect,  the  tragedy  of 
Macbeth  always  reminds  me  of  ^schylus's  poetry.  It 
has  scenes  and  conceptions  absolutely  too  bold  for  repre- 
sentation. What  stage  could  do  justice  to  ^schylus, 
when  the  Titan  Prometheus  makes  his  appeal  to  the  ele- 
ments; and  when  the  hammer  is  heard  in  the  Scythian 
Desert  that  rivets  his  chains?  Or  when  the  Ghost  of 
Clytemnestra  rushes  into  Apollo's  temple,  and  rouses 
the  sleeping  Furies?  I  wish  to  imagine  these  scenes.  I 
should  be  sorry  to  see  the  acting  of  them  attempted.  In 
like  manner,  there  are  parts  of  Macbeth  which  I  delight 

c7 


Comments 

to  read  much  more  than  to  see  In  the  theatre. 
Nevertheless,  I  feel  no  inconsistency  in  reverting  from 
these  remarks  to  my  first  assertion,  that  all  in  all,  Mac- 
beth is  our  greatest  possession  in  dramatic  poetry. 

Campbell:  Life  of  Mrs.  Siddons. 


As  regards  wealth  of  thought,  Macbeth  ranks  far  below 
Hamlet;  it  lacks  the  wide,  free,  historic  perfection  which 
vnjidius  Ccesar  raises  us  above  the  horror  of  his  tragic 
fall.  It  cannot  be  compared  with  Othello  for  complete- 
ness, depth  of  plot,  or  full,  rich  illustration  of  character. 
But,  in  our  opinion,  it  excels  all  that  Shakspeare,  or 
any  other  poet,  has  created,  in  the  simple  force  of  the 
harmonious,  majestic  current  of  its  action,  in  the  trans- 
parency of  its  plan,  in  the  nervous  power  and  bold  sweep 
of  its  language,  and  in  its  prodigal  wealth  of  poetical 
coloring. 

Kreyssig:    Vorlesiingen  iiber  Shakspeare. 


The  Tragedy  of  Macbeth. 


29 


>  noblemen  of  Scotland. 


DRAMATIS   PERSONAE. 

Duncan^  king  of  Scotland. 

Malcolm,        ) 

T-.  -    liis  sons. 

DONALBAIN,      ) 

Macbeth,    )  ,      x-  w     l-     ^ 

t  generals  of  the  king  s  army. 

Ban  QUO,      ) 

Macduff,      ~^ 

Lennox, 

Ross, 

Menteith, 

Angus, 

Caithness,  ^ 

Fleance,  son  to  Banquo. 

SiWARD,  earl  of  Northumberland,  general  of  the  English  forces. 

Young  Siward,  his  son. 

Seyton,  an  officer  attending  on  Macbeth. 

Boy,  son  to  Macduff. 

An  English  Doctor. 

A  Scotch  Doctor. 

A  Sergeant. 

A  Porter. 

An  Old  Man. 

Lady  Macbeth. 
Lady  Macduff. 
Gentlewoman  attending  on  Lady  Macbeth. 

Hecate. 
Three  Witches. 
Apparitions. 

Lords,  Gentlemen,  Officers,  Soldiers,  Murderers,  Attendants,  and 
Messengers. 

Scene:    Scotland;  England. 
30 


The  Tragedy  of  Macbeth. 

ACT  FIRST. 
Scene   I. 

A  desert  plaec. 
Thunder  and  lightning.     Enter  three  Witches. 

First  Witch.  When  shall  we  three  meet  again 

In  thunder,  lightning,  or  in  rain? 
Sec.  Witch.  When  the  hurlyburly  's  done, 

When  the  battle  's  lost  and  won. 
Third  Witch.  That  will  be  ere  the  set  of  sun. 
First  Witch.  Where  the  place? 
Sec.  Witch.  Upon  the  heath. 

Third  Witch.  There  to  meet  with  Macbeth. 
First  Witch.  I  come,  Graymalkin. 
All.  Paddock  calls: — anon! 

Fair  is  foul,  and  foul  is  fair.  lo 

Hover  through  the  fog  and  filthy  air.  [Exeunt. 

Scene  II. 

A  camp  near  Forres. 

Alarum  zvithin.     Enter  Duncan,  Malcolm,  Donalbain,  Len- 
nox, zvith  Attendants,  meeting  a  bleeding  Sergeant. 

Dim.  What  bloody  man  is  that?     He  can  report, 
As  seemeth  by  his  plight,  of  the  revolt 
The  newest  state. 

Mai.  This  is  the  sergeant 

31 


Act  I.  Sc.  ii.  THE  TRAGEDY  OF 

Who  like  a  good  and  hardy  soldier  fought 
'Gainst  my  captivity.     Hail,  brave  friend! 
Say  to  the  king  the  knowledge  of  the  broil 
As  thou  didst  leave  it. 

Scr.  Doubtful  it  stood; 

As  two  spent  swimmers,  that  do  cling  together 
And  choke  their  art.     The  merciless  Macdonwald — 
Worthy  to  be  a  rebel,  for  to  that  lo 

The  multiplying  villanies  of  nature 
Do  swarm  upon  him — from  the  western  isles 
Of  kerns  and  gallowglasses  is  supphed; 
And  fortune,  on  his  damned  quarrel  smiling, 
Show'd  like  a  rebel's  whore:   but  all 's  too  weak: 
For  brave  Macbeth — well  he  deserves  that  name — 
Disdaining  fortune,  with  his  brandish'd  steel 
Which  smoked  with  bloody  execution, 
Like  valour's  minion  carved  out  his  passage 
Till  he  faced  the  slave;  20 

Which  ne'er  shook  hands,  nor  bade  farewell  to  him. 
Till  he  unseam'd  him  from  the  nave  to  the  chaps. 
And  fix'd  his  head  upon  our  battlements. 

Dun.  O  valiant  cousin!  worthy  gentleman! 

Ser.  As  whence  the  sun  'gins  his  reflection 

Shipwrecking  storms  and  direful  thunders  break, 
So  from  that  spring  whence  comfort  seem'd  to  come 
Discomfort  swells.     Mark,  king  of  Scotland,  mark: 
No  sooner  justice  had,  with  valour  arm'd, 
Compell'd  these  skipping  kerns  to  trust  their  heels, 
But  the  Norweyan  lord,  surveying  vantage,  31 

With  furbish'd  arms  and  new  supplies  of  men. 
Began  a  fresh  assault. 

Dun.  Dismay'd  not  this 

Z2 


MACBETH  Act  I.  Sc.  ii. 

Our  captains,  Alacbeth  and  Banquo? 

Ser.  Yes ; 

As  sparrows  eagles,  or  the  hare  the  Hon. 
If  I  say  sooth,  I  must  report  they  were 
As  cannons  overcharged  with  double  cracks;  so  they 
Doubly  redoubled  strokes  upon  the  foe: 
Except  they  meant  to  bathe  in  reeking  wounds, 
Or  memorize  another  Golgotha,  40 

I  cannot  tell — 
But  I  am  faint;  my  gashes  cry  for  help. 

Dun.  So  well  thy  words  become  thee  as  thy  wounds; 
They  smack  of  honour  both.     Go  get  him  surgeons. 

[Exit  Sergeant,  attended. 
Who  comes  here? 

Enter  Ross. 

Mai.  The  worthy  thane  of  Ross. 

Len.  What  a  haste  looks  through  his  eyes!     So  should 
he  look 
That  seems  to  speak  things  strange. 

Ross.  God  save  the  king! 

Dun.  Whence  camest  thou,  worthy  thane? 

Ross.  From  Fife,  great  king; 

Where  the  Norweyan  banners  f^out  the  sky 
And  fan  our  people  cold.     Norway  himself  50 

With  terrible  numbers, 
Assisted  by  that  most  disloyal  traitor 
The  thane  of  Cawdor,  began  a  dismal  conflict; 
Till  that  Bellona's  bridegroom,  lapp'd  in  proof, 
Confronted  him  with  self-comparisons, 
Point  against  point  rebellious,  arm  'gainst  arm. 
Curbing  his  lavish  spirit :  and,  to  conclude, 

2,i 


Act  I.  Sc.  iii.  THE  TRAGEDY  OF 

The  victory  fell  on  us. 

Dun.  Great  happiness! 

Ross.  That  now 

Sweno,  the  Norways'  king,  craves  composition; 
Nor  would  we  deign  him  burial  of  his  men  60 

Till  he  disbursed,  at  Saint  Colme's  Inch, 
Ten  thousand  dollars  to  our  general  use. 

Dun.  No  more  that  thane  of  Cawdor  shall  deceive 

Our  bosom  interest:  go  pronounce  his  present  death, 
And  with  his  former  title  greet  Macbeth. 

Ross.  I'll  see  it  done. 

Dun.  What  he  hath  lost,  noble  Macbeth  hath  won. 

[Exeunt. 

Scene   III. 

A  heath. 
Thunder.     Enter  the  three  Witches. 

First  Witch.  Where  hast  thou  been,  sister? 

Sec.  Witch.  Killing  swine. 

TJiird  Witch.  Sister,  where  thou? 

First  Witch.  A  sailor's  wife  had  chestnuts  in  her  lap, 

And    mounch'd,    and    mounch'd,    and    mounch'd. 
'  Give  me,'  quoth  I : 

'Aroint  thee,  witch! '  the  rump-fed  ronyon  cries. 

Her  husband  's  to  Aleppo  gone,  master  o'  the  Tiger : 

But  in  a  sieve  I'll  thither  sail. 

And,  like  a  rat  without  a  tail, 

I'll  do,  I'll  do,  and  I'll  do.  10 

Sec.  Witch.  I'll  give  thee  a  wind. 
First  Witch.  Thou  'rt  kind. 
Third  Witch.  And  I  another. 

34 


MACBETH  Act  I.  Sc.  iii, 

First  Witch.  I  myself  have  all  the  other; 

And  the  very  ports  they  blow, 

All  the  quarters  that  they  know 

r  the  shipman's  card. 

I  will  drain  him  dry  as  hay: 

Sleep  shall  neither  night  nor  day 

Hang  upon  his  pent-house  lid;  20 

He  shall  live  a  man  forbid: 

Weary  se'nnights  nine  times  nine 

Shall  he  dwindle,  peak,  and  pine: 

Though  his  bark  cannot  be  lost, 

Yet  it  shall  be  tempest-tost. 

Look  what  I  have. 
Sec.  Witch.  Show  me,  show  me. 
First  Witch.  Here  I  have  a  pilot's  thumb. 

Wreck 'd  as  homeward  he  did  come.      [Drum  zuithin. 
Third  Witch.  A  drum,  a  drum !  30 

Macbeth  doth  come. 
All.  The  weird  sisters,  hand  in  hand, 

Posters  of  the  sea  and  land. 

Thus  do  go  about,  about: 

Thrice  to  thine,  and  thrice  to  mine, 

And  thrice  again,  to  make  up  nine. 

Peace !   the  charm  's  wound  up. 

Enter  Macbeth  and  Banquo. 

Macb.  So  foul  and  fair  a  day  I  have  not  seen. 

Ban.  How  far  is  't  call'd  to  Forres?     What  are  these 
So  wither'd,  and  so  wild  in  their  attire,  40 

That  look  not  like  the  inhabitants  o'  the  earth, 
And  yet  are  on  't?     Live  you?  or  are  you  aught 
That  man  may  question?     You  seem  to  understan  ,1 
me, 

35 


Act  I.  Sc.  iii.  THE  TRAGEDY  OF 

By  each  at  once  her  choppy  finger  laying 
Upon  her  skinny  hps :  you  should  be  women, 
And  yet  your  beards  forbid  me  to  interpret 
That  you  are  so. 

Macb.  Speak,  if  you  can:  what  are  vou? 

First  Witch.  All   hail,   Macbeth!   hail   to  thee,  thane   of 
Glamis! 

Sec.  Witch.  All   hail,    Macbeth!   hail   to   thee,   thane   of 
Cawdor! 

Third  Witch.  All  hail,  Macbeth,  thou  shalt  be  king  here- 
after! 50 

Ban.  Good  sir,  why  do  you  start,  and  seem  to  fear 

Things  that  do  sound  so  fair?     I'  the  name  of  truth, 

Are  ye  fantastical,  or  that  indeed 

Which  outwardly  ye  show?     My  noble  partner 

You  greet  with  present  grace  and  great  prediction 

Of  noble  having  and  of  royal  hope, 

That  he  seems  rapt  withal :  to  me  you  speak  not : 

If  you  can  look  into  the  seeds  of  time, 

And  say  which  grain  will  grow  and  which  will  not, 

Speak  then  to  me,  who  neither  beg  nor  fear  60 

Your  favours  nor  your  hate. 

First  Witch.  Hail! 

Sec.  Witch.  Hail! 

Third  Witch.  Hail! 

First  Witch.  Lesser  than  Macbeth,  and  greater. 

Sec.  Witch.  Not  so  happy,  yet  much  happier. 

Third  Witch.  Thou  shalt  get  kings,  though  thou  be  none  -. 
So  all  hail,  Macbeth  and  Banquo! 

First  Witch.  Banquo  and  Macbeth,  all  hail! 

Mach.  Stay,  you  imperfect  speakers,  tell  me  more:        70 
By  Sinel's  death  I  know  I  am  thane  of  Glamis  ; 

36 


MACBETH  Act  I.  Sc.  iii. 

But  how  of  Cawdor?  the  thane  of  Cawdor  Hves, 
A  prosperous  gentleman;  and  to  be  king 
Stands  not  within  the  prospect  of  behef, 
No  more  than  to  be  Cawdor.     Say  from  whence 
You  owe  this  strange  inteUigence?  or  why 
Upon  this  blasted  heath  you  stop  our  way 
With  such  prophetic  greeting?   Speak,  I  charge  you. 

[  Witches  vanish. 

Ban,  The  earth  hath  bubbles  as  the  water  has, 

And  these  are  of  them :  whither  are  they  vanish'd ?  80 

Macb.  Into  the  air,  and  what  seem'd  corporal  melted 
As  breath  into  the  wind.     Would  they  had  stay'd! 

Ban.  Were  such  things  here  as  we  do  speak  about? 
Or  have  we  eaten  on  the  insane  root 
That  takes  the  reason  prisoner?  • 

Macb.  Your  children  shall  be  kings. 

Ban.  You  shall  be  king. 

Macb.  And  thane  of  Cawdor  too:  went  it  not  so? 

Ban.  To  the  selfsame  tune  and  words.     Who  's  here? 

Enter  Ross  and  Angus. 

Ross.  The  king  hath  happily  received,  Macbeth, 

The  news  of  thy  success :  and  when  he  reads  90 

Thy  personal  venture  in  the  rebels'  fight, 
His  wonders  and  his  praises  do  contend 
Which  should  be  thine  or  his:  silenced  with  that, 
In  viewing  o'er  the  rest  o'  the  selfsame  day, 
He  finds  thee  in  the  stout  Norweyan  ranks, 
Nothing  afeard  of  what  thyself  didst  make, 
Strange  images  of  death.     As  thick  as  hail 
Came  post  with  post,  and  every  one  did  bear 
Thy  praises  in  his  kingdom's  great  defence, 

37 


Act  I.  Sc.  iii.  THE  TRAGEDY  OF 

And  pour'd  them  down  before  him, 
Ang.  We  are  se.nt     lOO 

To  give  thee,  from  our  royal  master,  thanks; 

Only  to  herald  thee  into  his  sight. 

Not  pay  thee. 
Ross.  And  for  an  earnest  of  a  greater  honour, 

He  bade  me,  from  him,  call  thee  thane  of  Cawdor. 

In  which  addition,  hail,  most  worthy  thane! 

For  it  is  thine. 
Ba7i.  What,  can  the  devil  speak  true? 

Macb.  The  thane  of  Cawdor  lives :  why  do  you  dress  me 

In  borrow'd  robes? 
Ang.  Who  was  the  thane  lives  yet, 

But  under  heavy  judgement  bears  that  life  no 

Which  he  deserves  to  lose.     Whether  he  was  com- 
bined 

With  those  of  Norway,  or  did  line  the  rebel 

With  hidden  help  and  vantage,  or  that  with  both 

He  labour'd  in  his  country's  wreck,  I  know  not; 

But  treasons  capital,  confess'd  and  proved. 

Have  overthrown  him. 
Macb.  [Aside}    Glamis,  and  thane  of  Cawdor: 

The  greatest  is  behind. — Thanks  for  your  pains. — 
Do  you  not  hope  your  children  shall  be  kings, 
When  those  that  gave  the  thane  of  Cawdor  to  me 
Promised  no  less  to  them? 
Ban.  That,  trusted  home,       120 

Might  yet  enkindle  you  unto  the  crown. 
Besides  the  thane  of  Cawdor.     But  'tis  strange: 
And  oftentimes,  to  win  us  to  our  harm. 
The  instruments  of  darkness  tell  us  truths, 
Win  us  with  honest  trifles,  to  betray  's 

38 


MACBETH  Actl.  Sc.  iii. 

In  deepest  consequence. 
Cousins,  a  word,  I  pray  you. 

Macb.  [Aside]   Two  truths  are  told, 

As  happy  prologues  to  the  swelling  act 
Of  the  imperial  theme. — I  thank  you,  gentlemen. — 
[Aside]   This  supernatural  soliciting  130 

Cannot  be  ill;  cannot  be  good:  if  ill, 
Why  hath  it  given  me  earnest  of  success. 
Commencing  in  a  truth?     I  am  thane  of  Cawdor: 
If  good,  w^hy  do  I  yield  to  that  suggestion 
Whose  horrid  image  doth  unfix  my  hair 
And  make  my  seated  heart  knock  at  my  ribs. 
Against  the  use  of  nature?     Present  fears 
Are  less  than  horrible  imaginings: 
My  thought,  whose  murder  yet  is  but  fantastical, 
Shakes  so  my  single  state  of  man  that  function     140 
Is  smother'd  in  surmise,  and  nothing  is 
But  what  is  not. 

Ba)i.  Look,  how  our  partner  's  rapt. 

Maeb.    [Aside]    If  chance  will  have  me  king,  why,  chance 
may  crown  me. 
Without  my  stir. 

Ban.  New  honours  come  upon  him. 

Like    our    strange    garments,    cleave    not    to    their 

mould 
But  with  the  aid  of  use. 

Macb.  [Aside]   Come  what  come  may, 

Time  and  the  hour  runs  through  the  roughest  day. 

Ban.  Worthy  Macbeth,  we  stay  upon  your  leisure. 

Macb.  Give  me  your  favour:  my  dull  brain  was  wrought 
With  things  forgotten.  Kind  gentlemen,  your  pains 
Are  register'd  where  every  day  I  turn  151 

The  leaf  to  read  them.     Let  us  toward  the  king. 

39 


Act.  I.  Sc.  iv.  THE  TRAGEDY  OF 

Think  upon  what  hath  chanced,  and  at  more  time, 
The  interim  having  weigh'd  it,  let  us  speak 
Our  free  hearts  each  to  other. 

Ban.  Very  gladly. 

Macb.  Till  then,  enough.     Come,  friends.  [Exeunt. 

Scene  IV. 

Forres.     The  palace. 

Flourish.     Enter  Duncan,  Malcolm,  Donalhain,  Eennox, 
and  Attendants. 

Dun.  Is  execution  done  on  Cawdor?     Are  not 
Those  in  commission  yet  return'd? 

Mai.  My  liege. 

They  are  not  yet  come  back.     But  I  have  spoke 
With  one  that  saw  him  die,  who  did  report 
That  very  frankly  he  confess'd  his  treasons, 
Implored  your  highness'  pardon  and  set  forth 
A  deep  repentance:  nothing  in  his  life 
Became  him  like  the  leaving  it;  he  died 
As  one  that  had  been  studied  in  his  death. 
To  throw  away  the  dearest  thing  he  owed  lo 

As  'twere  a  careless  trifle. 

Dun.  There  's  no  art 

To  find  the  mind's  construction  in  the  face: 
He  was  a  gentleman  on  whom  I  built 
An  absolute  trust. 

Enter  Macbeth,  Banquo,  Ross,  and  Angus. 

O  worthiest  cousin! 
The  sin  of  my  ingratitude  even  now 
Was  heavy  on  me:  thou  art  so  far  before, 
That  swiftest  wing  of  recompense  is  slow 

40 


MACBETH  Act  I.  Sc.  iv. 

To  overtake  thee.     Would  thou  hadst  less  deserved, 
That  the  proportion  both  of  thanks  and  payment 
Might  have  been  mine !  only  I  have  left  to  say,       20 
More  is  thy  due  than  more  than  all  can  pay. 

Macb.  The  service  and  the  loyalty  I  owe, 

In  doing  it,  pays  itself.     Your  highness'  part 

Is  to  receive  our  duties:  and  our  duties 

Are  to  your  throne  and  state  children  and  servants ; 

Which  do  but  what  they  should,  by  doing  every  thing 

Safe  toward  your  love  and  honour. 

Dun.  Welcome  hither: 

I  have  begun  to  plant  thee,  and  will  labour 
To  make  thee  full  of  growing.     Noble  Banquo, 
That  hast  no  less  deserved,  nor  must  be  known    30 
No  less  to  have  done  so:  let  me  infold  thee 
And  hold  thee  to  my  heart. 

Ban.  There  if  I  grow, 

The  harvest  is  your  own. 

Dun.  My  plenteous  joys, 

Wanton  in  fulness,  seek  to  hide  themselves 
In  drops  of  sorrow.     Sons,  kinsmen,  thanes. 
And  you  whose  places  are  the  nearest,  know, 
We  will  establish  our  estate  upon 
Our  eldest,  Malcolm,  whom  we  name  hereafter 
The  Prince  of  Cumberland:  which  honour  must 
Not  unaccompanied  invest  him  only,  40 

But  signs  of  nobleness,  Hke  stars,  shall  shine 
On  all  deservers.     From  hence  to  Inverness, 
And  bind  us  further  to  you. 

Mach.  The  rest  is  labour,  which  is  not  used  for  you: 
I'll  be  myself  the  harbinger,  and  make  joyful 
The  hearing  of  my  wife  with  your  approach; 

41 


Act  I.  Sc.  V.  THE  TRAGEDY  OF 

So  humbly  take  my  leave. 

Dun.  My  worthy  Cawdor! 

Macb.   [Aside]   The  Prince  of  Cumberland!  that  is  a  step 
On  which  I  must  fall  down,  or  else  o'erleap. 
For  in  my  way  it  lies.     Stars,  hide  your  fires;         50 
Let  not  light  see  my  black  and  deep  desires: 
The  eye  wink  at  the  hand;  yet  let  that  be 
Which  the  eye  fears,  when  it  is  done,  to  see.     [Exit. 

Dim.  True,  worthy  Banquo;  he  is  full  so  valiant. 
And  in  his  commendations  I  am  fed; 
It  is  a  banquet  to  me.     Let  's  after  him, 
Whose  care  is  gone  before  to  bid  us  welcome: 
It  is  a  peerless  kinsman.  [Flourish.     Exeunt. 


Scene  V. 

Inverness.     Machetlis  castle. 

Enter  Lady  Macbeth,  reading  a  letter. 

LadyM.  'They  met  me  in  the  day  of  success;  and 
I  have  learned  by  the  perfectest  report,  they 
have  more  in  them  than  mortal  knowledge. 
When  I  burned  in  desire  to  question  them 
further,  they  made  themselves  air,  into  which 
they  vanished.  Whiles  I  stood  rapt  in  the 
wonder  of  it,  came  missives  from  the  king,  who 
all-hailed  me  "Thane  of  Cawdor";  by  which 
title,  before,  these  weird  sisters  saluted  me,  and 
referred  me  to  the  coming  on  of  time,  with  10 
"Hail,  king  that  shalt  be!"  This  have  I 
thought  good  to  deliver  thee,  my  dearest  part- 
.  ner  of  greatness,  that  thou  mightst  not  lose  the 
dues  of  rejoicing,  by  being  ignorant  of  what 

42 


MACBETH  Act  I.  Sc.  v. 

greatness    is    promised    thee.     Lay    it    to    thy 

heart,  and  farewell.' 

Glamis  thou  art,  and  Cawdor,  and  shalt  be 

What  thou  art  promised:  yet  do  I  fear  thy  nature; 

It  is  too  full  o'  the  milk  of  human  kindness 

To  catch  the  nearest  way:  thou  wouldst  be  great; 

Art  not  without  ambition,  but  without  20 

The   illness   should   attend   it:   what   thou   wouldst 

highly, 
That  wouldst  thou  holily;  wouldst  not  play  false, 
And  yet  wouldst  wrongly  win :  thou  'Idst  have,  great 

Glamis, 
That  which  cries  '  Thus  thou  must  do,  if  thou  have 

it; 
And  that  which  rather  thou  dost  fear  to  do 
Than  wishest  should  be  undone.'     Hie  thee  hither, 
That  I  may  pour  my  spirits  in  thine  ear. 
And  chastise  with  the  valour  of  my  tongue 
All  that  impedes  thee  from  the  golden  round. 
Which  fate  and  metaphysical  aid  doth  seem  30 

'  To  have  thee  crown'd  withal. 

Enter  a  Messenger. 

What  is  your  tidings? 

Mess.  The  king  comes  here  to-night. 

Lady  M.  Thou  'rt  mad  to  say  it : 

Is  not  thy  master  with  him?  who,  were  't  so, 
Would  have  inform'd  for  preparation. 

Mess.  So  please  you,  it  is  true:  our  thane  is  coming: 
One  of  my  fellows  had  the  speed  of  him, 
Who,  almost  dead  for  breath,  had  scarcely  more 
Than  would  make  up  his  message; 

Lady  M.  Give  him  tending; 

He  brings  great  news.  [Exit  Messenger. 

43 


Act  I.  Sc.  V.  THE  TRAGEDY  OF 

The  raven  himself  is  hoarse 
That  croaks  the  fatal  entrance  of  Duncan  40 

Under  my  battlements.     Come,  you  spirits 
That  tend  on  mortal  thoughts,  unsex  me  here, 
And  fill  me,  from  the  crown  to  the  toe,  top-full 
Of  direst  cruelty!  make  thick  my  blood. 
Stop  up  the  access  and  passage  to  remorse, 
That  no  compunctious  visitings  of  nature 
Shake  my  fell  purpose,  nor  keep  pace  between 
The  effect  and  it!     Come  to  my  woman's  breasts, 
And  take  my  milk  for  gall,  you  murdering  ministers, 
Wherein  your  sightless  substances  50 

You  wait  on  nature's  mischief!     Come,  thick  night. 
And  pall  thee  in  the  dunnest  smoke  of  hell, 
That  my  keen  knife  see  not  the  wound  it  makes, 
Nor  heaven  peep  through  the  blanket  of  the  dark, 
To  cry  '  Hold,  hold! ' 

Enter  Macbeth. 

Great  Glamis!  worthy  Cawdor! 

Greater  than  both,  by  the  all-hail  hereafter! 

Thy  letters  have  transported  me  beyond 

This  ignorant  present,  and  I  feel  now 

The  future  in  the  instant. 
Macb.  My  dearest  love, 

Duncan  comes  here  to-night. 
Lady  M.  And  when  goes  hence?  60 

Macb.  To-morrow,  as  he  purposes. 
Lady  iV.  O,  never 

Shall  sun  that  morrow  see! 

Your  face,  my  thane,  is  as  a  book  where  men 

May  read  strange  matters.     To  beguile  the  time, 

44 


MACBETH  Act  I.  Sc.  vi. 

Look  like  the  time;  bear  welcome  in  your  eye, 
Your   hand,   youf  tongue:   look   like   the   innocent 

flower, 
But  be  the  serpent  under  't.     He  that  's  coming 
Must  be  provided  for:  and  you  shall  put 
This  night's  great  business  into  my  dispatch; 
Which  shall  to  all  our  nights  and  days  to  come     70 
Give  solely  sovereign  sway  and  masterdom. 

Macb.  We  will  speak  further. 

LadyM.  Only  look  up  clear; 

To  alter  favour  ever  is  to  fear: 
Leave  all  the  rest  to  me.  [Exeunt. 

Scene    VL 

Before  Macbeth:  s  castle. 

Hautboys  and  torches.     Enter  Duncan,  Malcolm,  Donalbain, 
Banquo,  Lennox,  Macduff,  Ross,  Angus,  and  Attendants. 

Dun.  This  castle  hath  a  pleasure  seat;  the  air 
Nimbly  and  sweetly  recommends  itself 
Unto  our  gentle  senses. 

Ban.  This  guest  of  summer, 

The  temple-haunting  martlet,  does  approve 
By  his  loved  mansionry  that  the  heaven's  breath 
Smells  wooingly  here:  no  jutty,  frieze, 
Buttress,  nor  coign  of  vantage,  but  this  bird 
Hath  made  his  pendant  bed  and  procreant  cradle : 
Where  they  most'b!'eed  and  haunt,  I  have  observed 
The  air  is  delicate. 

Enter  Lady  Macbeth. 
Dun.  See,  see,  our  honour'd  hostess!     10 

The  love  that  follows  us  sometime  is  our  trouble, 
Which  still  we  thank  as  love.     Herein  I  teach  you 

45 


Act  I.  Sc.  vii.  THE  TRAGEDY  OF 

How  you  shall  bid  God  'ild  us  for  your  pains, 
And  thank  us  for  your  trouble. 

Lady  M.  All  our  service 

In  every  point  twice  done,  and  then  done  double, 
Were  poor  and  single  business  to  contend 
Against  those  honours  deep  and  broad  wherewith 
Your  majesty  loads  our  house:  for  those  of  old. 
And  the  late  dignities  heap'd  up  to  them, 
We  rest  your  hermits. 

Dun.  Where  's  the  thane  of  Cawdor? 20 

We  coursed  him  at  the  heels,  and  had  a  purpose 
To  be  his  purveyor:  but  he  rides  well. 
And  his  great  love,  sharp  as  his  spur,  hath  holp  him 
To  his  hom.e  before  us.     Fair  and  noble  hostess. 
We  are  your  guest  to-night. 

Lady  M.  Your  servants  ever 

Have  theirs,  themselves,  and  what  is  theirs,  in  compt, 
To  make  their  audit  at  your  highness'  pleasure, 
Still  to  return  your  own. 

Dun.  Give  me  your  hand; 

Conduct  me  to  mine  host:  we  love  him  highly, 
And  shall  continue  our  graces  towards  him.  30 

By  your  leave,  hostess.  [Exeunt. 


Scene    VII. 

Macbeth' s  castle. 

Hautboys  and  torches.  Enter  a  Sewer,  and  divers  Serv- 
ants with  dishes  and  service,  and  pass  over  the  stage. 
Then  enter  Macbeth. 

Macb.  If  it  were  done  when  'tis  done,  then  'twere  well 
It  were  done  quickly:  if  the  assassination 

.46 


MACBETH  Act  I.  Sc.  vii. 

Could  trammel  up  the  consequence,  and  catch, 
With  his  surcease,  success;  that  but  this  blow 
Might  be  the  be-all  and  the  end-all  here, 
•  But  here,  upon  this  bank  and  shoal  of  time, 
We  'Id  jump  the  life  to  come.     But  in  these  cases 
We  still  have  judgement  here;  that  we  but  teach 
Bloody  instructions,  which  being  taught  return 
To  plague  the  inventor:  this  even-handed  justice    lo 
Commends  the  ingredients  of  our  poison'd  chalice 
To  our  own  lips.     He  's  here  in  double  trust: 
First,  as  I  am  his  kinsman  and  his  subject, 
Strong  both  against  the  deed;  then,  as  his  host, 
Who  should  against  his  murderer  shut  the  door. 
Not  bear  the  knife  myself.     Besides,  this  Duncan 
Hath  borne  his  faculties  so  meek,  hath  been 
So  clear  in  his  great  office,  that  his  virtues 
Will  plead  like  angels  trumpet-tongued  against 
The  deep  damnation  of  his  taking-ofif;  20 

And  pity,  like  a  naked  new-born  babe. 
Striding  the  blast,  or  heaven's  cherubin  horsed 
Upon  the  sightless  couriers  of  the  air, 
Shall  blow  the  horrid  deed  in  every  eye. 
That  tears  shall  drown  the  wind.     I  have  no  spur 
To  prick  the  sides  of  my  intent,  but  only 
Vaulting  ambition,  which  o'erleaps  itself 
And  falls  on  the  other. 

Enter  Lady  Macbeth. 

How  now!  what  news? 
LadyM.  He  has  almost  supp'd:  why  have  you  left  the 

chamber? 
Macb.  Hath  he  ask'd  for  me? 

47 


Act  I.  Sc.  vii.  THE  TRAGEDY  OF 

Lady  M.  Know  you  not  he  has?         30 

Macb.  We  will  proceed  no  further  in  this  business: 
He  hath  honour'd  me  of  late;  and  I  have  bought 
Golden  opinions  from  all  sorts  of  people, 
Which  would  be  worn  now  in  their  newest  gloss, 
Not  cast  aside  so  soon. 

Lady  M.  Was  the  hope  drunk 

Wherein  you  dress'd  yourself?  hath  it  slept  since? 

And  wakes  it  now,  to  look  so  green  and  pale 

At  what  it  did  so  freely?     From  this  time 

Such  I  account  thy  love.     Art  thou  afeard 

To  be  the  same  in  thine  own  act  and  valour  40 

As  thou  art  in  desire?     Wouldst  thou  have  that 

Which  thou  esteem'st  the  ornament  of  life, 

And  live  a  coward  in  thine  own  esteem, 

Letting  '  I  dare  not '  wait  upon  '  I  would,' 

Like  the  poor  cat  i'  the  adage? 

Macb.  Prithee,  peace: 

I  dare  do  all  that  may  become  a  man ; 
Who  dares  do  more  is  none. 

Lady  M.  What  beast  was  't  then 

That  made  you  break  this  enterprise  to  me? 
When  you  durst  do  it,  then  you  were  a  man; 
And,  to  be  more  than  what  you  were,  you  would    50 
Be  so  much  more  the  man.     Nor  time  nor  place 
Did  then  adhere,  and  yet  you  would  make  both : 
They  have  made  themselves,  and  that  their  fitness 

now 
Does  unmake  you.     I  have  given  suck,  and  know 
How  tender  'tis  to  love  the  babe  that  milks  me: 
I  would,  while  it  was  smiling  in  my  face, 
Have  pluck'd  my  nipple  from  his  boneless  gums. 
And  dash'd  the  brains  out,  had  I  so  sworn  as  you 

48 


MACBETH  Act  1.  Sc.  vii. 

Have  done  to  this. 

Macb.  If  we  should  fail? 

LadyJ\L  We  fail! 

But  screw  your  courage  to  the  sticking-place,        60 

And  we  '11  not  fail.     When  Duncan  is  asleep — 

Whereto  the  rather  shall  his  day's  hard  journey 

Soundly  invite  him — his  two  chamberlains 

Will  1  with  wine  and  wassail  so  convince, 

That  memory,  the  warder  of  the  brain, 

Shall  be  a  fume,  and  the  receipt  of  reason 

A  limbec  only;  when  in  swinish  sleep 

Their  drenched  natures  lie  as  in  a  death. 

What  cannot  you  and  I  perform  upon 

The  unguarded  Duncan?  what  not  put  upon  70 

His  spongy  officers,  who  shall  bear  the  guilt 

Of  our  great  quell? 

Macb.  Bring  forth  men-children  only; 

For  thy  undaunted  mettle  should  compose 
Nothing  but  males.     Will  it  not  be  received. 
When  wx  have  mark'd  with  blood  those  sleepy  two 
Of  his  own  chamber,  and  used  their  very  daggers. 
That  they  have  done  't? 

Lody  M.  Who  dares  receive  it  other, 

As  we  shall  make  our  griefs  and  clamour  roar 
Upon  his  death? 

Macb.  I  am  settled,  and  bend  up 

Each  corporal  agent  to  this  terrible  feat.  80 

Away,  and  mock  the  time  with  fairest  show: 
False  face  must  hide  what  the  false  heart  doth  know. 

[Excnnl. 


10  D 

4Q 


Act  JI.  Sc.  i.  THE  TRAGEDY  OF 

ACT  SECOND. 

Scene  I. 

Inverness.     Court  of  Macbeth' s  eastlc. 
Enter  Banquo,  and  Fleance  bearing  a  torch  before  him. 

Ban.  How  goes  the  night,  boy? 

Fie.  The  moon  is  down;  I  have  not  heard  the  clock. 

Ban.  And  she  goes  down  at  twelve. 

Fie.  I  take  't,  'tis  later,  sir. 

Ban.  Hold,    take    my    sword.     There  's    husbandry    in 
heaven, 
Their  candles  are  all  out.     Take  ihee  that  too. 
A  heavy  summons  lies  like  lead  upon  me, 
And  yet  I  would  not  sleep.     Merciful  powers. 
Restrain  in  me  the  cursed  thoughts  that  nature 
Gives  way  to  in  repose! 

Enter  Macbeth,  and  a  Seri'aiit  zcitJi  a  torch. 

Give  me  my  sword. 
Who  's  there?  lo 

Maeb.  A  friend. 

Ban.  What,  sir,  not  yet  at  rest?     The  king's  a-bed: 
He  hath  been  in  unusual  pleasure,  and 
Sent  forth  great  largess  to  your  oflices: 
This  diamond  he  greets  your  wife  withal, 
By  the  name  of  most  kind  hostess;  and  shut  up 
In  measureless  content. 

Maeb.  Being  unprepared, 

Our  will  became  the  servant  to  defect. 
Which  else  should  free  have  wrought. 

Ban.  All  's    well. 

.so 


MACBETH  Act  II.  Sc.  i. 

I  dreamt  last  night  of  the  three  weird  sisters:         20 

To  you  they  have  show'd  some  truth. 
Macb.  I  think  not  of  them: 

Yet,  when  we  can  entreat  an  hour  to  serve, 

We  would  spend  it  in  some  words  upon  that  busi- 
ness, 

If  you  would  grant  the  time. 
Ban.  At  your  kind'st  leisure. 

Macb.  If  you  shall  cleave  to  my  consent,  when  'tis. 

It  shall  make  honour  for  you. 
Ban.  '  So  I  lose  none 

In  seeking  to  augment  it,  but  still  keep 

My  bosom  franchised  and  allegiance  clear, 

I  shall  be  counsell' d. 
Macb.  Good  repose  the  while! 

Ban.  Thanks,  sir:  the  like  to  you! 

[ExciDit  Banqiio  and  Fleance. 

Macb.  Go  bid  thy  mistress,  when  my  drink  is  ready, 
She  strike  upon  the  bell.     Get  thee  to  bed. 

[Exit  Servant. 
Is  this  a  dagger  which  I  see  before  me. 
The  handle  toward  my  hand?     Come,  let  i\ie  clutch 

thee. 
I  have  thee  not,  and  yet  I  see  thee  still. 
Art  thou  not,  fatal  vision,  sensible 
To  feeling  as  to  sight?  or  art  thou  but 
A  dagger  of  the  mind,  a  false  creation, 
Proceeding  from  the  heat-oppressed  brain? 
I  see  thee  yet,  in  form  as  palpable  40 

As  this  which  now  I  draw. 

Thou  marshall'st  me  the  way  that  I  was  going; 
And  such  an  instrument  I  was  to  use. 
Mine  eyes  are  made  the  fools  o'  the  other  senses, 

51 


Act  II.  Sc.  ii.  THE  TRAGEDY  OF 

Or  else  worth  all  the  rest:  I  see  thee  still; 
And  on  thy  blade  and  dudgeon  gouts  of  blood, 
Which  was  not  so  before.     There  's  no  such  thing: 
It  is  the  bloody  business  which  informs 
Thus  to  mine  eyes.     Now  o'er  the  one  half-world 
Nature  seems  dead,  and  wicked  dreams  abuse        50 
The  curtain'd  sleep;  witchcraft  celebrates 
Pale  Hecate's  offerings;  and  wither'd  murder, 
Alarum'd  by  his  sentinel,  the  wolf. 
Whose  howl 's  his  watch,  thus  with  his  stealthy  pace, 
With  Tarquin's  ravishing  strides,  towards  his  design 
Moves  like  a  ghost.     Thou  sure  and  firm-set  earth, 
Hear  not  my  steps,  which  way  they  walk,  for  fear 
Thy  very  stones  prate  of  my  whereabout, 
And  take  the  present  horror  from  the  time, 
Which  now  suits  with  it.     Whiles  I  threat,  he  lives: 
Words  to  the  heat  of  deeds  too  cold  breath  gives.  61 

[A  bell  rings. 
I  go,  and  it  is  done:  the  bell  invites  me. 
Hear  it  not,  Duncan,  for  it  is  a  knell 
That  summons  thee  to  heaven,  or  to  hell.  [Exit. 

Scene   II. 

The  same. 
Enter  Lady  Macbeth. 

Lady  M.  That  which  hath  made  them  drunk  hath  made 

me  bold; 
What    hath    quench'd    them    hath    given    me    fire. 

Hark!     Peace! 
It  was  the  owl  that  shriek'd,  the  fatal  bellman. 
Which  gives  the  stern'st  good-night.    He  is  about  it : 

53 


MACBETH  Act  II.  Sc.  n. 

The  doors  are  open,  and  the  surfeited  grooms 

Do  mock  their  charge  with  snores:  I  have  drugg'd 
their  possets, 

That  death  and  nature  do  contend  about  them, 

Whether  they  Hve  or  die. 
Macb.  [Within']   Who 's  there?  what,  ho! 

Lady  M.  Alack,  I  am  afraid  they  have  awaked  lo 

And  'tis  not  done :  the  attempt  and  not  the  deed 

Confounds  us.     Hark!  I  laid  their  daggers  ready; 

He  could  not  miss  'em.     Had  he  not  resembled 

My  father  as  he  slept,  I  had  done  't. 

Enter  Macbeth. 

My  husband! 
Macb.  I  have  done  the  deed.     Didst   thou   not  hear  a 

noise? 
Lady  M.  I  heard  the  owl  scream  and  the  crickets  cry. 

Did  not  you  speak? 
Macb.  When? 

Lady  M:  Now. 

Macb.  As  I  descended? 

LadyM.  Ay. 
Macb.  Hark! 

Who  lies  i'  the  second  chamber? 
Lady  M.  Donalbain.  20 

Macb.  This  is  a  sorry  sight.  [Looking  on  his  hands. 

Lady  M.  A  foolish  thought,  to  say  a  sorry  sight. 
Macb.  There  's  one  did  laugh  in  's  sleep,  and  one  cried 
'Murder!' 

That  they  did  wake  each  other:  I  stood  and  heard 
them : 

But  they  did  say  their  prayers,  and  addressed  them 

Again  to  sleep. 

53 


Act  II.  Sc.  ii.  THE  TRAGEDY  OF 

LadyM.  There  are  two  lodged  together. 

Macb.  One  cried  '  God  bless  us! '  and  '  Amen  '  the  other. 
As  they  had  seen  me  with  these  hangman's  hands: 
Listening  their  fear,  I  could  not  say  '  Amen,' 
When  they  did  say  '  God  bless  us !  ' 

Lady  M.  Consider  it  not  so  deeply.  30 

Macb.  But  wherefore  could  not  I  pronounce  'Amen'? 
I  had  most  need  of  blessing,  and  '  Amen  ' 
Stuck  in  my  throat. 

Lady  AL  These  deeds  must  not  be  thought 

After  these  ways;  so,  it  will  make  us  mad. 

Macb.  Methought  I  heard  a  voice  cry  '  Sleep  no  more! 
Macbeth  does  murder  sleep  ' — the  innocent  sleep, 
Sleep  that  knits  up  the  ravell'd  sleave  of  care. 
The  death  of  each  day's  life,  sore  labour's  bath, 
Balm  of  hurt  minds,  great  nature's  second  course, 
Chief  nourisher  in  life's  feast, — 

Lady  ^L  What  do  you  mean?     40 

Macb.  Still  it  cried  '  Sleep  no  more! '  to  all  the  house: 
'  Glamis  hath  murder'd  sleep,  and  therefore  Cawdor 
Shall  sleep  no  more:  Alacbeth  shall  sleep  no  more.' 

LadyM.  Who   was   it   that   thus   cried?     Why,   worthy 
thane, 
You  do  unbend  your  noble  strength,  to  think 
So  brainsickly  of  things.     Go  get  some  water. 
And  wash  this  filthy  witness  from  your  hand. 
Why  did  you  bring  these  daggers  from  the  place? 
They  must  lie  there:  go  carry  them,  and  smear 
The  sleepy  grooms  with  blood. 

Macb.  I  '11  go  no  more:       50 

I  am  afraid  to  think  what  I  have  done; 
Look  on  't  again  I  dare  not. 

54 


MACBETH  Act  II.  Sc.  ii. 

Lady  M.  Infirm  of  purpose! 

Give  me  the  daggers :  the  sleeping  and  the  dead 
Are  but  as  pictures:  'tis  the  eye  of  childhood 
That  fears  a  painted  devil.     If  he  do  bleed, 
I'll  gild  the  faces  of  the  grooms  withal, 
For  it  must  seem  their  guilt. 

[Exit.     Knocking  within. 

Macb.  Whence  is  that  knocking? 

How  is  't  with  me,  when  every  noise  appals  me? 
What  hands  are  here?  ha!  they  pluck  out  mine  eyes! 
Will  all  great  Neptune's  ocean  wash  this  blood       60 
Clean  from  my  hand?    No;  this  my  hand  will  rather 
The  multitudinous  seas  incarnadine, 
Making  the  green  one  red. 

Re-enter  Lady  Macbeth. 

Lady  M.  My  hands  are  of  your  colour,  but  I  shame 

To  wear  a  heart  so  white.      [Knocking  within.]      I 

hear  a  knocking 
At  the  south  entry:  retire  we  to  our  chamber: 
A  little  water  clears  us  of  this  deed: 
How  easy  is  it  then!     Your  constancy 
Hath  left  you  unattended.    [Knocking  zvithin.]    Hark ! 

more  knocking: 
Get  on  your  nightgown,  lest  occasion  call  us  70 

And  show  us  to  be  watchers :  be  not  lost 
So  poorly  in  your  thoughts. 
Macb.  To  know  my  deed,  'twere  best  not  know  myself. 

[Knocking  within. 
Wake  Duncan  with  thy  knocking!     I  would  thou 

couldst!  [Exeunt, 

55 


Act  II.  Sc.  iii.  THE  TRAGEDY  OF 

Scene  III. 

The  same. 
Enter  a  Porter.     Knocking  within. 

Porter.  Here  's  a  knocking,  indeed!  If  a  man  were 
porter  of  hell-gate,  he  should  have  old  turning 
the  key.  [Knocking  within.]  Knock,  knock, 
knock!  Who  's  there,  i'  the  name  of  Beelzebub? 
Here  's  a  farmer,  that  hanged  himself  on  th'  ex- 
pectation of  plenty:  come  in  time;  have  nap- 
kins enow  about  you;  here  you  '11  sweat  for  't. 
[Knocking  within.]  Knock,  knock!  Who's 
there,  in  th'  other  devil's  name?  Faith,  here  's 
an  equivocator,  that  could  swear  in  both  the  lo 
scales  against  either  scale;  who  committed  trea- 
son enough  for  God's  sake,  yet  could  not  equiv- 
ocate to  heaven:  O,  come  in,  equivocator. 
[Knocking  within.]  Knock,  knock,  knock! 
Who  's  there?  Faith,  here  's  an  English  tailor 
come  hither,  for  stealing  out  of  a  French  hose: 
come  in,  tailor;  here  you  may  roast  your  goose. 
[Knocking  zvithin.]  Knock,  knock;  never  at 
quiet!  What  are  you?  But  this  place  is  too 
cold  for  hell.  I  '11  devil-porter  it  no  further:  I 
had  thought  to  have  let  in  some  of  all  profes-  20 
sions,  that  go  the  primrose  way  to  the  everlast- 
ing bonfire.  [Knocking  zvithin.]  Anon,  anon! 
I  pray  you,  remember  the  porter. 

[Opens  the  gate. 

Enter  Macduff  and  Lennox. 

Macd.  Was  it  so  late,  friend,  ere  you  went  to  bed. 
That  you  do  lie  so  late? 

5<5 


MACBETH  Act  II.  Sc.  iii. 

Port.  Faith,  sir,  we  were  carousing  till  the  second 
cock:  and  drink,  sir,  is  a  great  provoker  of 
three  things. 

Macd.  What  three  things  does  drink  especially  pro- 
voke? 30 

Port.  Marry,  sir,  nose-painting,  sleep  and  urine. 
Lechery,  sir,  it  provokes  and  unprovokes;  it 
provokes  the  desire,  but  it  takes  away  the  per- 
formance ;  therefore  much  drink  may  be  said  to 
be  an  equivocator  with  lechery;  it  makes  him 
and  it  mars  him;  it  sets  him  on  and  it  takes  him 
off;  it  persuades  him  and  disheartens  him; 
makes  him  stand  to  and  not  stand  to;  in  con- 
clusion, equivocates  him  in  a  sleep,  and  giving 
him  the  lie,  leaves  him.  40 

Macd.  I  believe  drink  gave  thee  the  lie  last  night. 

Port.  That  it  did,  sir,  i'  the  very  throat  on  me:  but 
I  requited  him  for  his  lie,  and,  I  think,  being 
too  strong  for  him,  though  he  took  up  my  leg 
sometime,  yet  I  made  a  shift  to  cast  him. 

Macd.  Is  thy  master  stirring? 

Enter  Macbeth. 

Our  knocking  has  awaked  him ;  here  he  comes. 
Lcn.  Good  morrow,  noble  sir. 
Macb.  Good  morrow,  both. 

Macd.  Is  the  king  stirring,  worthy  thane? 
Macb.  Not  yet. 

Macd.  He  did  command  me  to  call  timely  on  him;     50 

I  had  almost  slipp'd  the  hour. 
Macb.  I  '11  bring  you  to  him. 

Macd.  I  know  this  is  a  joyful  trouble  to  you; 

57 


Act  II.  Sc.  iii.  THE  TRAGEDY  OF 

But  yet  'tis  one. 

Mach.  The  labour  we  delight  in  physics  pain. 
This  is  the  door. 

Macd.  I  '11  make  so  bold  to  call, 

For  "tis  my  limited  service.  [Exit. 

Lcn.  Goes  the  king  hence  to-day? 

Macb.  He  does:  he  did  appoint  so. 

Len.  The  night  has  been  unruly:  where  we  lay, 

Our  chimneys  were  blown  down,  and,  as  they  say, 
Lamentings   heard   i'  the   air,   strange   screams   of 

death. 
And  prophesying  with  accents  terrible  6i 

Of  dire  combustion  and  confused  events 
New  hatch'd  to  the  woful  time:  the  obscure  bird 
Clamour'd  the  livelong  night :  some  say,  the  earth 
Was  feverous  and  did  shake. 
Mach.  Twas  a  rough  night. 

Len.  My  young  remembrance  cannot  parallel 
A  fellow  to  it. 

Re-enter  Macduff. 

Macd.  O  horror,  horror,  horror!     Tongue  nor  heart 
Cannot  conceive  nor  name  thee. 

^^^^^-     1  What 's  the  matter? 

Lcn.         \ 

Macd.  Confusion  now  hath  made  his  masterpiece.         70 

Most  sacrilegious  murder  hath  broke  ope 

The  Lord's  anointed  temple,  and  stole  thence 

The  Hfe  o'  the  building. 
Macb.  What  is  't  you  say?  the  life? 

Len.  Mean  you  his  majesty? 
Macd.  Approach  the  chamber,  and  destroy  your  sight 

With  a  new  Gorgon:  do  not  bid  me  speak; 

38 


MACBETH  Act  II.  Sc.  iii. 

See,  and  then  speak  yourselves. 

[Exeunt  Macbeth  and  Lennox. 
Awake,  awake ! 
Ring  the  alarum-bell.     Murder  and  treason! 
Banquo  and  Donalbain!     Malcolm!  awake!  80 

Shake  off  this  downy  sleep,  death's  counterfeit, 
And  look  on  death  itself!  up,  up,  and  see 
The  great  doom's  image!     Malcolm!     Banquo! 
As  from  your  graves  rise  up,  and  walk  like  sprites, 
To  countenance  this  horror.     Ring  the  bell. 

[Bell  rings. 

Enter  Lady  Macbeth. 

Lady  M.  What  's  the  business. 

That  such  a  hideous  trumpet  calls  to  parley 

The  sleepers  of  the  house?  speak,  speak! 
Macd.  O  gentle  lady, 

'Tis  not  for  you  to  hear  what  I  can  speak: 

The  repetition,  in  a  woman's  ear. 

Would  murder  as  it  fell. 

Enter  Banquo. 

O  Banquo,  Banquo!  90 

Our  royal  master  's  murder'd. 
LadyM.  Woe,  alas! 

What,  in  our  house? 
Ban.  '  Too  cruel  any  where. 

Dear  Duff,  I  prithee,  contradict  thyself, 

And  say  it  is  not  so. 

Re-enter  Macbeth  and  Lennox,  Txith  Ross. 

Macb.  Had  I  but  died  an  hour  before  this  chance, 
I  had  lived  a  blessed  time;  for  from  this  instant 

59 


Act  II.  Sc.  iii.  THE  TRAGEDY  OF 

« 

There  's  nothing  serious  in  mortahty: 

All  is  but  toys:  renown  and  grace  is  dead; 

The  wine  of  life  is  drawn,  and  the  mere  lees 

Is  left  this  vault  to  brag  of.  lOO 

Enter  Malcolm  and  Donalbain. 

Don.  What  is  amiss? 

Mach.  You  are,  and  do  not  know  't: 

The  spring,  the  head,  the  fountain  of  your  blood 
Is  stopp'd;  the  very  source  of  it  is  stopp'd. 

Macd.  Your  royal  father  's  murder'd. 

Mai.  *  D,  by  whom? 

Len.  Those  of  his  chamber,  as  it  seem'd,  had  done  't: 
Their  hands  and  faces  were  all  badged  wnth  blood; 
So  were  their  daggers,  which  unwiped  we  found 
Upon  their  pillows: 

They  stared,  and  were  distracted;  no  man's  life 
Was  to  be  trusted  with  them.  no 

Mach.  O,  yet  I  do  repent  me  of  my  fury, 
That  I  did  kill  them. 

Macd.  Wherefore  did  you  so? 

Mach.  Who  can  be  wise,  amazed,  temperate  and  furious, 
Loyal  and  neutral,  in  a  moment?     No  man: 
The  expedition  of  my  violent  love 
Outrun  the  pauser  reason.     Here  lay  Duncan, 
His  silver  skin  laced  with  his  golden  blood, 
And  his  gash'd  stabs  look'd  like  a  breach  in  nature 
For  ruin's  wasteful  entrance:  there,  the  murderers, 
Steep'd  in  the  colours  of  their  trade,  their  daggers 
Unmannerly  breech'd  with  gore:  wdio  could  refrain. 
That  had  a  heart  to  love,  and  in  that  heart  122 

Courage  to  make  's  love  known? 

60 


MACBETH  Act  II.  Sc.  iii. 

LadyM.  Help  me  hence,  ho! 

Macd.  Look  to  the  lady. 

Mai.       [Aside  to  Don.]    Why  do  we  hold  our  tongues, 
That  most  may  claim  this  argument  for  ours? 

Don.   [Aside  to  Mai]   What  should  be  spoken  here,  where 
our  fate. 
Hid  in  an  auger-hole,  may  rush,  and  seize  us? 
Let 's  away; 
Our  tears  are  not  yet  brew'd. 

Mai.  [Aside  to  Don.]  Xor  our  strong  sorrow 

Upon  the  foot  of  motion. 

Ban.  Look  to  the  lady:  130 

[Lady  Macbeth  is  carried  out. 
And  when  we  have  our  naked  frailties  hid, 
That  sufifer  in  exposure,  let  us  meet, 
And  question  this  most  bloody  piece  of  work, 
To  know  it  further.     Fears  and  scruples  shake  us: 
In  the  great  hand  of  God  I  stand,  and  thence 
Against  the  undivulged  pretence  I  fight 
Of  treasonous  malice. 

Macd.  And  so  do  L 

All.  So  all. 

Mach.  Let  's  briefly  put  on  manly  readiness, 
And  meet  i'  the  hall  together. 

^11  Well  contented. 

[Exeunt  all  hut  Malcolm  and  Donalbain. 

A/a/.  What    will    you    do?     Let's    not    consort    with 
them:  ^40 

To  show  an  unfelt  sorrow  is  an  office 
Which  the  false  man  does  easy.     I  '11  to  England. 

Don.  To  Ireland,  I;  our  separated  fortune 

Shall  keep  us  both  the  safer:  where  we  are 

There  's  daggers  in  men's  smiles:  the  near  in  blood, 

61 


Act  II.  Sc.  iv.  THE  TRAGEDY  OF 

The  nearer  bloody. 
Mai  This  murderous  shaft  that 's  shot 

Hath  not  yet  Hghted,  and  our  safest  way 
Is  to  avoid  the  aim.     Therefore  to  horse; 
And  let  us  not  be  dainty  of  leave-taking, 
But  shift  away:  there  's  warrant  in  that  theft         150 
Which  steals  itself  when  there  's  no  mercy  left. 

[Exeunt. 

Scene  IV. 

Outside  MachetKs  castle. 
Enter  Ross  with  an  old  Man. 

OldM.  Threescore  and  ten  I  can  remember  well: 
Within  the  volume  of  which  time  I  have  seen 
Hours  dreadful  and  things   strange,  but  this  sore 

night 
Hath  trifled  former  knowings. 

Ross.  Ah,  good  father. 

Thou  seest,  the  heavens,  as  troubled  with  man's  act. 
Threaten  his  bloody  stage:  by  the  clock  'tis  day, 
And  yet  dark  night  strangles  the  travelling  lamp: 
Is  't  night's  predominance,  or  the  day's  shame. 
That  darkness  does  the  face  of  earth  entomb, 
When  living  light  should  kiss  it? 

OldM.  'Tis  unnatural,     10 

Even  like  the  deed  that  's  done.     On  Tuesday  last 
A  falcon  towering  in  her  pride  of  place 
Was  by  a  mousing  owl  hawk'd  at  and  kill'd. 

Ross.  And  Duncan's  horses — a  thing  most  strange  and 
certain — 
Beauteous  and  swift,  the  minions  of  their  race, 
Turn'd  wild  in  nature,  broke  their  stalls,  flung  out, 

62 


MACBETH  Act  II.  Sc.  iv. 

Contending  'gainst  obedience,  as  they  would  make 

War  with  mankind. 
Old  M.  Tis  said  they  eat  each  other. 

Ross.  They  did  so,  to  the  amazement  of  mine  eyes, 

That  look'd  upon  't. 

Enter  Macduff. 

Here  comes  the  good  Macduff.     20 

How  goes  the  world,  sir,  now? 
Macd.  Why,  see  you  not? 

Ross.  Is  't  known  who  did  this  more  than  bloody  deed? 
Macd.  Those  that  Macbeth  hath  slain. 
Ross.  Alas,  the  day! 

What  good  could  they  pretend? 
Macd.  They  were  suborn'd: 

Malcolm  and  Donalbain,  the  king's  two  sons, 

Are  stol'n  away  and  fled,  which  puts  upon  them 

Suspicion  of  the  deed. 
Ross.  'Gainst  nature  still: 

Thriftless  ambition,  that  wilt  ravin  up 

Thine  own  life's  means!     Then  'tis  most  like 

The  sovereignty  will  fall  upon  Macbeth.  30 

Macd.  He  is  already  named,  and  gone  to  Scone 

To  be  invested. 
Ross.  Where  is  Duncan's  body? 

Macd.  Carried  to  Colme-kill, 

The  sacred  storehouse  of  his  predecessors 

And  guardian  of  their  bones. 
Ross.  Will  you  to  Scone? 

Macd.  No,  cousin,  I  '11  to  Fife. 
Ross.  Well,  I  will  thither. 

Macd.  Well,  may  you  see  things  well  done  there:  adieu! 


Act  III.  Sc.  i.  THE  TRAGEDY  OF 

Lest  our  old  robes  sit  easier  than  our  new! 
Ross.  Farewell,  father. 
Old  M.  God's  benison  go  with  you  and  with  those        40 

That  would  make  good  of  bad  and  friends  of  foes! 

[Exeunt- 

ACT  THIRD. 
Scene  I. 

Forres.     The  palaee. 

Enter  Banquo. 

Ban.     Thou  hast  it  now:   king,  Cawdor,  Glamis,  all. 
As  the  weird  women  promised,  and  I  fear 
Thou  play'dst  most  foully  for  't:  yet  it  was  said 
It  should  not  stand  in  thy  posterity. 
But  that  myself  should  be  the  root  and  father 
Of  many  kings.     If  there  come  truth  from  them — 
As  upon  thee,  Macbeth,  their  speeches  shine — 
Why,  by  the  verities  on  thee  made  good, 
May  they  not  be  my  oracles  as  well 
And  set  me  up  in  hope?     But  hush,  no  more.  10 

Sennet  sounded.     Enter  Maebeth,  as  king;  Lady  Macbeth,  as 
queen;  Lennox,  Ross,  Lords,  Ladies,  and  Attendants. 

Macb.  Here  's  our  chief  guest. 

Lady  M.  If  he  had  been  forgotten, 

It  had  been  as  a  gap  in  our  great  feast, 

And  all-thing  unbecoming. 
Macb.  To-night  we  hold  a  solemn  supper,  sir, 

And  I  '11  request  your  presence. 
Ban.  Let  your  highness 

Command  upon  me,  to  the  which  my  duties 

64 


MACBETH  Act  III.  Sc.  i. 

Are  with  a  most  indissoluble  tie 
For  ever  knit. 

Macb.  Ride  you  this  afternoon? 

Ban.  Ay,  my  good  lord.  20 

Macb.  We  should  have  else  desired  your  good  advice, 
Which  still  hath  been  both  grave  and  prosperous, 
In  this  day's  council;  but  we  '11  take  to-morrow. 
Is  't  far  you  ride? 

Ban.  As  far,  my  lord,  as  will  fill  up  the  time 

'Twixt  this  and  supper:   go  not  my  horse  the  better, 
I  must  become  a  borrower  of  the  night 
For  a  dark  hour  or  twain. 

Macb.  Fail  not  our  feast. 

Ban.   '\ly  lord,  I  will  not. 

Macb.  We  hear  our  bloody  cousins  are  bestow'd  30 

In  England  and  in  Ireland,  not  confessing 
Their  cruel  parricide,  filling  their  hearers 
With  strange  invention :  but  of  that  to-morrow, 
When  therewithal  we  shall  have  cause  of  state 
Craving  us  jointly.     Hie  you  to  horse:  adieu. 
Till  you  return  at  night.     Goes  Fleance  with  you? 

Ban.  Ay,  my  good  lord:   our  time  does  call  upon  's. 

Macb.  I  wish  your  horses  swift  and  sure  of  foot. 
And  so  I  do  commend  you  to  their  backs. 
Farewell.  [Exit  Banqiio.     40 

Let  every  man  be  master  of  his  time 
Till  seven  at  night;  to  make  society 
The  sweeter  welcome,  we  will  keep  ourself 
Till  supper-time  alone:  while  then,  God  be  with  you! 
[Exeunt  all  but  Macbeth  and  an  Attendant. 
Sirrah,  a  word  with  you:    attend  those  men 
Our  pleasure? 

65 


Act  III.  Sc.  i.  THE  TRAGEDY  OF 

Attend.  They  are,  my  lord,  without  the  palace-gate. 

Macb.  Bring  them  before  us.  [Exit  Attendant. 

To  be  thus  is  nothing; 
But  to  be  safely  thus:  our  fears  in  Banquo 
Stick  deep;  and  in  his  royalty  of  nature  50 

Reigns  that  which  would  be  fear'd:  'tis  much  he 

dares, 
And,  to  that  dauntless  temper  of  his  mind, 
He  hath  a  wisdom  that  doth  guide  his  valour 
To  act  in  safety.     There  is  none  but  he 
Whose  being  I  do  fear:  and  under  him 
My  Genius  is  rebuked,  as  it  is  said 
Mark  Antony's  was  by  Caesar.     He  chid  the  sisters. 
When  first  they  put  the  name  of  king  upon  me, 
And  bade  them  speak  to  him;   then  prophet-like 
They  hail'd  him  father  to  a  line  of  kings:  60 

Upon  my  head  they  placed  a  fruitless  crown 
And  put  a  barren  sceptre  in  my  gripe, 
Thence  to  be  wrench'd  with  an  unlineal  hand, 
No  son  of  mine  succeeding.     If 't  be  so, 
For  Banquo's  issue  have  I  filed  my  mind; 
For  them  the  gracious  Duncan  have  I  murder'd; 
Put  rancours  in  the  vessel  of  my  peace 
Only  for  them,  and  mine  eternal  jewel 
Given  to  the  common  enemy  of  man, 
To  make  them  kings,  the  seed  of  Banquo  kings!    70 
Rather  than  so,  come,  fate,  into  the  list, 
And  champion  me  to  the  utterance!     Who  's  there? 

Re-enter  Attendant,  with  two  Murderers. 

Now  go  to  the  door,  and  stay  there  till  we  call. 

[Exit  Attendant. 

66 


MACBETH  Act  III.  Sc.  i. 

Was  it  not  yesterday  we  spoke  together? 

First  Miir.  It  was,  so  please  your  highness. 

Macb.  Well  then,  now 

Have  you  consider'd  of  my  speeches?     Know 
That  it  was  he  in  the  times  past  which  held  you 
So  under  fortune,  which  you  thought  had  been 
Our  innocent  self:  this  I  made  good  to  you 
In   our   last   conference;   pass'd   in   probation   with 
you,  ^o 

How  you  were  borne  in  hand,  how  cross'd,  the  in- 
struments, 
Who  wrought  with  them,  and  all  things  else  that 

might 
To  half  a  soul  and  to  a  notion  crazed 
Say  '  Thus  did  Banquo.' 

First  Miir.  You  made  it  known  to  us. 

Mach.  I  did  so;  and  went  further,  which  is  now 
Our  point  of  second  meeting.     Do  you  find 
Your  patience  so  predominant  in  your  nature, 
That  you  can  let  this  go?     Are  you  so  gospell'd, 
To  pray  for  this  good  man  and  for  his  issue, 
Whose  heavy  hand  hath  bow'd  you  to  the  grave    90 
And  beggar'd  yours  for  ever? 

First  Miir.  We  are  men,  my  liege. 

Macb.  Ay,  in  the  catalogue  ye  go  for  men; 

As  hounds  and  greyhounds, mongrels,  spaniels,  curs, 
Shoughs,  water-rugs  and  demi-wolves,  are  clept 
All  by  the  name  of  dogs :  the  valued  file 
Distinguishes  the  swift,  the  slow,  the  subtle. 
The  housekeeper,  the  hunter,  every  one 
According  to  the  gift  which  bounteous  nature 
Hath  in  him  closed,  whereby  he  does  receive 

67 


Act  III.  Sc.  i.  THE  TRAGEDY  OF 

Particular  addition,  from  the  bill  lOO 

That  writes  them  all  alike:   and  so  of  men. 
Now  if  you  have  a  station  in  the  file, 
Not  i'  the  w^orst  rank  of  manhood,  say  it, 
And  I  will  put  that  business  in  your  bosoms 
Whose  execution  takes  your  enemy  off, 
Grapples  you  to  the  heart  and  love  of  us, 
Who  wear  our  health  but  sickly  in  his  life. 
Which  in  his  death  were  perfect. 

Sec.  Mnr.  I  am  one,  my  liege, 

Whom  the  vile  blows  and  buffets  of  the  world 
Have  so  incensed  that  I  am  reckless  what  no 

I  do  to  spite  the  world. 

First  Mnr.  And  I  another 

So  weary  w4th  disasters,  tugg'd  with  fortune, 
That  I  would  set  my  life  on  any  chance. 
To  mend  it  or  be  rid  on  't. 

Macb.  Both  of  you 

Know  Banquo  was  your  enemy. 

Both  Mur.  True,  my  lord. 

Macb.  So  is  he  mine,  and  in  such  bloody  distance 
That  every  minute  of  his  being  thrusts 
Against  my  near'st  of  life:   and  though  I  could 
With  barefaced  power  sweep  him  from  my  sight 
And  bid  my  wall  avouch  it,  yet  I  must  not,  120 

For  certain  friends  that  are  both  his  and  mine. 
Whose  loves  I  may  not  drop,  but  wail  his  fall 
Who  I  myself  struck  down:   and  thence  it  is 
That  I  to  your  assistance  do  make  love. 
Masking  the  business  from  the  common  eye 
For  sundry  weighty  reasons. 

Sec,  Mur.  We  shall,  my  lord, 

6S 


MACBETH  Act  111.  Sc.  ii. 

Perform  what  you  command  us. 

First  Miir.  Though  our  lives — 

Macb.  Your  spirits  shine  through  you.     Within  this  hour 
at  most 
I  will  advise  you  where  to  plant  yourselves, 
Acquaint  you  with  the  perfect  spy  o'  the  time,       130 
The  moment  on  't;  for  't  must  be  done  to-night, 
And  something  from  the  palace;    always  thought 
That  I  require  a  clearness:   and  with  him — 
To  leave  no  rubs  nor  botches  in  the  work — 
Fleance  his  son,  that  keeps  him  company, 
Whose  absence  is  no  less  material  to  me 
Than  is  his  father's,  must  embrace  the  fate 
Of  that  dark  hour.     Resolve  yourselves  apart : 
I  '11  come  to  you  anon. 

Both  Miir.  We  are  resolved,  my  lord. 

Macb.  I  '11  call  upon  you  straight:   abide  within  140 

[Exeunt  Murderers. 
It  is  concluded:  Banquo  thy  soul's  flight, 
If  it  find  heaven,  must  find  it  out  to-night.         [Exit. 


Scene  II. 

The  palace. 

Enter  Lady  Macbeth  and  a  Servant. 

LadyM.  Is  Banquo  gone  from  court? 

Serv.  Ay,  madam,  but  returns  again  to-night. 

Lady  M.  Say  to  the  king,  I  would  attend  his  leisure 

For  a  few  words. 
Serv.  Madam,  I  will.  [Exit. 

Lady  M.  Nought 's  had,  all  's  spent, 

Where  our  desire  is  got  without  content: 

69 


Act  III.  Sc.  ii.  THE  TRAGEDY  OF 

'Tis  safer  to  be  that  which  we  destroy 
Than  by  destruction  dwell  in  doubtful  joy. 

Enter  Macbeth. 

How  now,  my  lord!   why  do  you  keep  alone, 
Of  sorriest  fancies  your  companions  making;         9 
Using  those  thoughts  which  should  indeed  have  died 
With    them    they    think    on?     Things    without    all 

remedy 
Should  be  without  regard:  what 's  done  is  done. 

Macb.  We  have  scotch'd  the  snake,  not  kill'd  it: 

She  '11  close  and  be  herself,  whilst  our  poor  malice 

Remains  in  danger  of  her  former  tooth. 

But  let  the  frame  of  things  disjoint,  both  the  worlds 

suffer, 
Ere  we  will  eat  our  meal  in  fear,  and  sleep 
In  the  affliction  of  these  terrible  dreams 
That  shake  us  nightly:  better  be  with  the  dead, 
Whom  we,  to  gain  our  peace,  have  sent  to  peace, 
Than  on  the  torture  of  the  mind  to  lie  21 

In  restless  ecstasy.     Duncan  is  in  his  grave; 
After  life's  fitful  fever  he  sleeps  well; 
Treason  has  done  his  worst:  nor  steel,  nor  poison, 
Malice  domestic,  foreign  levy,  nothing, 
Can  touch  him  further. 

Lady  M.  Come  on ; 

Gentle    my  lord,  sleek  o'er  your  rugged  looks; 
Be  bright  and  jovial  among  your  guests  to-night. 

Macb.  So  shall  I,  love;  and  so,  I  pray,  be  you: 

Let  your  remembrance  apply  to  Banquo;  30 

Present  him  eminence,  both  with  eye  and  tongue: 
Unsafe  the  while,  that  we    * 

Must  lave  our  honours  in  these  flattering  streams, 
And  make  our  faces  visards  to  our  hearts, 

70 


MACBETH  Act  III.  Sc.  iii. 

Disguising  what  they  are. 

Lady  M.  You  must  leave  this. 

Macb.  O,  full  of  scorpions  is  my  mind,  dear  wife! 

Thou  know'st  that  Banquo,  and  his  Fleance,  lives. 

Lady  M.  But  in  them  nature's  copy  's  not  eterne. 

Macb.  There  's  comfort  yet;  they  are  assailable; 

Then  be  thou  jocund:  ere  the  bat  hath  flown  40 

His  cloister'd  flight;  ere  to  black  Hecate's  summons 
The  shard-borne  beetle  with  his  drowsy  hums 
Hath  rung  night's  yawning  peal,  there  shall  be  done 
A  deed  of  dreadful  note. 

LadyM.  What 's  to  be  done? 

Macb.  Be  innocent  of  the  knowledge,  dearest  chuck. 
Till  thou  applaud  the  deed.     Come,  seeling  night, 
Scarf  up  the  tender  eye  of  pitiful  day. 
And  with  thy  bloody  and  invisible  hand 
Cancel  and  tear  to  pieces  that  great  bond 
Which   keeps   me   pale!     Light   thickens,   and   the 

crow 
Makes  wing  to  the  rooky  wood:  '  51 

Good  things  of  day  begin  to  droop  and  drowse, 
Whiles  night's  black  agents  to  their  preys  do  rouse. 
Thou  marvell'st  at  my  words:  but  hold  thee  still; 
Things  bad  begun  make  strong  themselves  by  ill: 
So,  prithee,  go  with  me.  [Exeunt. 

Scene  III. 

A  park  near  the  palace. 

Enter  three  Murderers. 

First  Mur.  But  who  did  bid  thee  join  with  us? 

Third  Mur.  Macbeth. 

Sec.  Mur.  He  needs  not  our  mistrust;  since  he  delivers 

71 


Act  III.  Sc.  iii.  THE  TRAGEDY  OF 

Our  offices,  and  what  we  have  to  do, 

To  the  direction  just. 
First  Miir.  Then  stand  with  us. 

The  west  yet  ghmmers  with  some  streaks  of  day: 

Now  spurs  the  lated  traveher  apace 

To  gain  the  timely  inn,  and  near  approaches 

The  subject  of  our  watch. 
Third Mur.  Hark!  I  hear  horses. 

Ban.    [Within]    Give  us  a  hght  there,  ho! 
Sec.  Mur.  Then  'tis  he :   the  rest 

That  are  within  the  note  of  expectation  lo 

Already  are  i'  the  court. 
First  Mur.  His  horses  go  about. 

Third Miir.  Almost  a  mile:   but  he  does  usually — 

So  all  men  do — from  hence  to  the  palace  gate 

Make  it  their  w^alk. 
Sec.  Mur.  A  light,  a  Hght! 

Enter  Banquo,  and  Flcancc  zvith  a  torch. 

Third  Mur.  'Tis  he. 

First  Mur.  Stand  to  't. 

Ban.  It  will  be  rain  to-night. 

First  Mw.  Let  it  come  down. 

[  They  set  upon  Banquo. 
Ban.  O,  treachery!     Fly,  good  Fleance,  fly,  fly,  fly! 

Thou  mayst  revenge.     O  slave! 

[Dies.     Fleance  escapes. 
Third  Mur.  \Mio  did  strike  out  the  light? 
First  Mur.  Was  't  not  the  way? 

Third  Mur.  There  's  but  one  down;  the  son  is  fled. 
Sec.  Mur.  We  have  lost     20 

Best  half  of  our  affair. 
First  Mur.  Well,  let 's  away  and  say  how  much  is  done. 

[Exeunt. 

7Z 


MACBETH  Act  III.  Sc.  iv. 

Scene  IV. 

Hall  in  the  palace. 

A  banquet  prepared.     Enter  Macbeth,  Lady  Macbeth, 
Ross,  Lennox,  Lords,  aiid  Attendants. 

Macb.  You  know  your  own  degrees;  sit  down:  at  first 

And  last  a  hearty  welcome. 
Lords.  Thanks  to  your  majesty. 

Macb.  Ourself  will  mingle  with  society 

And  play  the  humble  host. 

Our  hostess  keeps  her  state,  but  in  best  time 

We  will  require  her  welcome. 
Lady  M.  Pronounce  it  for  me,  sir,  to  all  our  friends, 

For  my  heart  speaks  they  are  welcome. 

Enter  first  Murderer  to  the  door. 

Macb.  See,  they  encounter  thee  with  their  hearts'  thanks. 

Both  sides  are  even:    here  1  '11  sit  i'  the  midst:       lo 

Be  large  in  mirth;  anon  we  '11  drink  a  measure 

The  table  round.      [Approaching  the  door]    There  's 
blood  upon  thy  face. 
Mur.   'Tis  Banquo's  then. 
Macb.   'Tis  better  thee  without  than  he  within. 

Is  he  dispatch'd? 
Mur.   I\Iy  lord,  his  throat  is  cut;  that  I  did  for  him. 
Macb.  Thou  art  the  best  o'  the  cut-throats:  yet  he  's  good 

That  did  the  like  for  Fleance:   if  thou  didst  it, 

Thou  art  the  nonpareil. 
Mur.  ^lost  royal  sir, 

Fleance  is  'scaped.  20 

Macb.    [Aside]   Then  comes  my  fit  again:  I  had  else  been 
perfect, 

73 


Act  III.  Sc.  iv.  THE  TRAGEDY  OF 

Whole  as  the  marble,  founded  as  the  rock, 

As  broad  and  general  as  the  casing  air: 

But  now  I  am  cabin'd,  cribb'd,  confined,  bound  in 

To  saucy  doubts  and  fears. — But  Banquo  's  safe? 

Mur.  Ay,  my  good  lord:   safe  in  a  ditch  he  bides, 
With  twenty  trenched  gashes  on  his  head; 
The  least  a  death  to  nature. 

Macb.  Thanks  for  that. 

[Aside]     There  the  grown  serpent  lies;  the  worm 

that 's  fled 
Hath  nature  that  in  time  will  venom  breed,  30 

No  teeth  for  the  present.   Get  thee  gone:  to-morrow 
We  '11  hear  ourselves  again.  [Exit  Murderer. 

Lady  M.  My  royal  lord. 

You  do  not  give  the  cheer:   the  feast  is  sold 
That  is  not  often  vouch'd,  while  'tis  a-making, 
'Tis  given  with  welcome:  to  feed  were  best  at  home; 
From  thence  the  sauce  to  meat  is  ceremony; 
Meeting  were  bare  without  it. 

Macb.  Sweet  remembrancer! 

Now  good  digestion  wait  on  appetite. 
And  health  on  both! 

Leu.  May  't  please  your  highness  sit. 

[The  Ghost  of  Bajiqiio  enters,  and  sits  in  Macbeth' s  plaee. 

Macb.  Here  had  we  now  our  country's  honour  roof'd,  40 

Were  the  graced  person  of  our  Banquo  present; 

Who  may  I  rather  challenge  for  unkindness 

Than  pity  for  mischance! 
Ross.  His  absence,  sir, 

Lays  blame  upon  his  promise.     Please  't  your  high- 
ness 

To  grace  us  with  vour  roval  company. 
Macb,  The  table  's  full.^ 

74 


MACBETH  Act  III.  Sc.  iv. 

Len.  Here  is  a  place  reserved,  sir. 

Macb.  Where? 

Len,  Here,  my  good  lord.     What  is  't  that  moves  your 
highness? 

Macb.  Which  of  you  have  done  this? 

Lords.  What,  my  good  lord? 

Macb.  Thou  canst  not  say  I  did  it:   never  shake  50 

Thy  gory  locks  at  me. 

Ross.  Gentlemen,  rise;  his  highness  is  not  well. 

LadyM.  Sit,  worthy  friends:    my  lord  is  often  thus. 

And  hath  been  from  his  youth:  pray  you,  keep  seat; 
The  fit  is  momentary;   upon  a  thought 
He  will  again  be  well:   if  much  you  note  him, 
You  shall  offend  him  and  extend  his  passion: 
Feed,  and  regard  him  not.     Are  you  a  man? 

Macb.  Ay,  and  a  bold  one,  that  dare  look  on  that 
Which  might  appal  the  devil. 

LadyM.  O  proper  stuff!  60 

This  is  the  very  painting  of  your  fear: 
This  is  the  air-drawn  dagger  which,  you  said, 
Led  you  to  Duncan.     O,  these  flaws  and  starts. 
Impostors  to  true  fear,  would  well  become 
A  woman's  story  at  a  winter's  fire, 
Authorized  by  her  grandam.     Shame  itself! 
Why  do  you  make  such  faces?     When  all 's  done, 
You  look  but  on  a  stool. 

Macb.  Prithee,  see  there!    behold!    look!    lo!    how  say 
you? 
Why,  what  care  I?     If  thou  canst  nod,  speak  too. 
If  charnel-houses  and  our  graves  must  send  71 

Those  that  we  bury  back,  our  monuments 
Shall  be  the  maws  of  kites.  [Exit  Ghost. 

LadyM.  What,  quite  unmann'd  in  folly? 


Act  III.  Sc.  iv.  THE  TRAGEDY  OF 

Macb.  If  I  stand  here,  I  saw  him. 

Lady  M .  Fie,  for  shame ! 

Macb.  Blood  hath  been  shed  ere  now,  i'  the  olden  time, 
Ere  humane  statute  purged  the  gentle  weal ; 
Ay,  and  since  too,  murders  have  been  perform'd 
Too  terrible  for  the  ear:   the  time  has  been. 
That,  when  the  brains  were  out,  the  man  would  die. 
And  there  an  end;  but  now  they  rise  again,  80 

With  twenty  mortal  murders  on  their  crowns, 
And  push  us  from  our  stools:   this  is  more  strange 
Than  such  a  murder  is. 

Lady  M.  My  worthy  lord, 

Your  noble  friends  do  lack  you. 

Macb.  I  do  forget. 

Do  not  muse  at  me,  my  most  worthy  friends; 
I  have  a  strange  infirmity,  which  is  nothing 
To  those  that  know  me.     Come,  love  and  health  to 

all; 
Then  I  '11  sit  dow^n.     Give  me  some  wine,  fill  full. 
I  drink  to  the  general  joy  o'  the  whole  table. 
And  to  our  dear  friend  Banquo,  wdiom  we  miss;    90 
Would  he  were  here!   to  all  and  him  we  thirst. 
And  all  to  all. 

Lords.  Our  duties,  and  the  pledge. 

Re-enter  Ghost. 

Macb.  Avaunt!    and  quit  my  sight!    let  the  earth  hide 
thee! 

Thy  bones  are  marrowless,  thy  blood  is  cold; 

Thou  hast  no  speculation  in  those  eyes 

Which  thou  dost  glare  with. 
Lady  ^L  Think  of  this,  good  peers, 

But  as  a  thing  of  custom:  'tis  no  other; 

7^ 


MACBETH  Act  III.  Sc.  iv. 

Only  it  spoils  the  pleasure  of  the  time. 

Macb.  What  man  dare,  I  dare: 

Approach  thou  hke  the  rugged  Russian  bear,     lOO 
The  arm'd  rhinoceros,  or  the  Hyrcan  tiger; 
Take  any  shape  but  that,  and  my  firm  nerves 
Shall  never  tremble:   or  be  alive  again. 
And  dare  me  to  the  desert  with  thy  sword; 
If  trembling  I  inhabit  then,  protest  me 
The  baby  of  a  girl.     Hence,  horrible  shadow! 
Unreal  mockery,  hence!  [Exit  Ghost. 

\Miy,  so:   being  gone, 
I  am  a  man  again.     Pray  you,  sit  still. 

LadyM.  You  have  displaced  the  mirth,  broke  the  good 
meeting. 
With  most  admired  disorder. 

Macb.  Can  such  things  be,  no 

And  overcome  us  like  a  summer's  cloud. 
Without  our  special  wonder?  You  make  me  strange 
Even  to  the  disposition  that  I  owe, 
When  now  I  think  you  can  behold  such  sights, 
And  keep  the  natural  ruby  of  your  cheeks. 
When  mine  is  blanch'd  with  fear. 

Ross.  What  sights,  my  lord? 

LadyM.  I  pray  you,  speak  not;  he  grows  worse  and 
worse; 
Question  enrages  him:  at  once,  good  night: 
Stand  not  upon  the  order  of  your  going, 
But  go  at  once. 

Lcn.  Good  night;   and  better  health     120 

Attend  his  majesty! 

LadyM.  A  kind  good  night  to  all! 

[Exeunt  all  but  Macbeth  and  Lady  M. 

77 


Act  III.  Sc.  V.  THE  TRAGEDY  OF 

Macb.  It  will  have  blood :  they  say  blood  will  have  blood: 
Stones  have  been  known  to  move  and  trees  to  speak; 
Augures  and  understood  relations  have 
By  maggot-pies  and  choughs   and  rooks  brought 

forth 
The  secret'st  man  of  blood.     What  is  the  night? 

Lady  M.  Almost  at  odds  with  morning,  which  is  which. 

Macb.  How  say'st  thou,  that  Macduff  denies  his  person 
At  our  great  bidding? 

LadyM.  Did  you  send  to  him,  sir? 

Macb.  I  hear  it  by  the  way,  but  I  will  send:  130 

There  's  not  a  one  of  them  but  in  his  house 
I  keep  a  servant  fee'd.     I  w^ill  to-morrow, 
And  betimes  I  will,  to  the  v/eird  sisters: 
More  shall  they  speak,  for  now  I  am  bent  to  know, 
By  the  worst  means,  the  worst.     For  mine  own  good 
All  causes  shall  give  way:  I  am  in  blood 
Stepp'd  in  so  far  that,  should  I  wade  no  more, 
Returning  were  as  tedious  as  go  o'er: 
Strange  things  I  have  in  head  that  will  to  hand, 
Which  must  be  acted  ere  they  may  be  scann'd.     140 

Lady  M.  You  lack  the  season  of  all  natures,  sleep. 

Macb.  Come,  we  '11  to  sleep.     My  strange  and  self-abuse 
Is  the  initiate  fear  that  wants  hard  use: 
We  are  yet  but  young  in  deed.  [Exeunt, 

Scene  V. 

A  heath. 

Thunder.     Enter  the  three  Witches,  meeting  Hecate. 

First  Witch.  Why,  how  now,  Hecate!   you  look  angerly. 
Hec.  Have  I  not  reason,  beldams  as  you  are, 
Saucy  and  over-bold?     How  did  you  dare 

78 


MACBETH  Act  III.  Sc.  v. 

To  trade  and  traffic  with  Macbeth 

In  riddles  and  affairs  of  death; 

And  I,  the  mistress  of  your  charms, 

The  close  contriver  of  all  harms, 

Was  never  call'd  to  bear  my  part. 

Or  show  the  glory  of  our  art? 

And,  which  is  worse,  all  you  have  done  lo 

Hath  been  but  for  a  wayward  son, 

Spiteful  and  wrathful;   who,   as  others  do. 

Loves  for  his  own  ends,  not  for  you. 

But  make  amends  now:   get  you  gone. 

And  at  the  pit  of  Acheron 

Meet  me  i'  the  morning:  thither  he 

Will  come  to  know  his  destiny: 

Your  vessels  and  your  spells  provide, 

Your  charms  and  every  thing  beside. 

I  am  for  the  air ;   this  night  I  '11  spend  20 

Unto  a  dismal  and  a  fatal  end: 

Great  business  must  be  wrought  ere  noon: 

Upon  the  corner  of  the  moon 

There  hangs  a  vaporous  drop  profound; 

I  '11  catch  it  ere  it  come  to  ground: 

And  that  distillVl  by  magic  sleights 

Shall  raise  such  artificial  sprites 

As  by  the  strength  of  their  illusion 

Shall  draw  him  on  to  his  confusion: 

He  shall  spurn  fate,  scorn  death,  and  bear  30 

His  hopes  'bove  wisdom,  grace  and  fear: 

And  you  all  know  security 

Is  mortals'  chiefest  enemy. 

[Music  and  a  song  zvithin :     '  Come  azvay, 
come  azvay'  etc. 

79 


Act  III.  Sc.  vi.  TH£  TRAGEDY  OF 

Hark!   I  am  call'd;   my  little  spirit,  see, 
Sits  in  a  foggy  cloud,  and  stays  for  me.  [Exit. 

First  Witch.  Come,  let 's  make  haste;  she'll  soon  be  back 
again.  [Exeunt. 

Scene  VI. 

Forres.     The  palace. 

Enter  Lennox  and  another  Lord. 

Lcn.  My  former  speeches  have  but  hit  your  thoughts. 
Which  can  interpret  farther;    only  I  say 
Things  have  been  strangely  borne.     The  gracious 

Duncan 
Was  pitied  of  Macbeth:   marry,  he  was  dead: 
And  the  right-valiant  Banquo  walk'd  too  late; 
Whom,  you  may  say,  if 't  please  you,  Fleance  kill'd, 
For  Fleance  fled:   men  must  not  walk  too  late. 
Who  cannot  want  the  thought,  how  monstrous 
It  was  for  Malcolm  and  for  Donalbain 
To  kill  their  gracious  father?   damned  fact!  lo 

Kow  it  did  grieve  Macbeth!  did  he  not  straight, 
In  pious  rage,  the  two  delinquents  tear. 
That  were  the  slaves  of  drink  and  thralls  of  sleep? 
Was  not  that  nobly  done?     Ay,  and  wisely  too; 
For  'twould  have  anger'd  any  heart  alive 
To  hear  the  men  deny  't.     So  that,  I  say. 
He  has  borne  all  things  well:    and  I  do  think 
That,  had  he  Duncan's  sons  under  his  key — 
As,  an  't  please  heaven,  he  shall  not — they  should 

find 
What  'twere  to  kill  a  father;   so  should  Fleance.    20 
But,  peace!  for  from  broad  words,  and  'cause  he 

fail'd 
His  presence  at  the  tyrant's  feast,  I  hear, 

80 


MACBETH  Act  III.  Sc.  vi. 

Macduff  lives  in  disgrace:   sir,  can  you  tell 
Where  he  bestows  himself? 

Lord.  The  son  of  Duncan, 

From  whom  this  tyrant  holds  the  due  of  birth, 
Lives  in  the  English  court,  and  is  received 
Of  the  most  pious  Edward  with  such  grace 
That  the  malevolence  of  fortune  nothing 
Takes  from  his  high  respect.     Thither  Macduff 
Is  gone  to  pray  the  holy  king,  upon  his  aid  30 

To  wake  Northumberland  and  warlike  Siward: 
That  by  the  help  of  these,  with  Him  above 
To  ratify  the  work,  we  may  again 
Give  to  our  tables  meat,  sleep  to  our  nights. 
Free  from  our  feasts  and  banquets  bloody  knives, 
Do  faithful  homage  and  receive  free  honours: 
All  which  we  pine  for  now:   and  this  report 
Hath  so  exasperate  the  king  that  he 
Prepares  for  some  attempt  of  war. 

Lni.  Sent  he  to  ^Macduff? 

Lord.  He  did:   and  with  an  absolute  '  Sir,  not  I,'  40 

The  cloudy  messenger  turns  me  his  back. 
And  hums,  as  who  should  say  '  You'll  rue  the  time 
That  clogs  me  with  this  answer/ 

Lcn.  And  that  well  might 

Advise  him  to  a  caution,  to  hold  what  distance 
His  wisdom  can  provide.     Some  holy  angel 
Fly  to  the  court  of  England  and  unfold 
His  message  ere  he  come,  that  a  swift  blessing 
May  soon  return  to  this  our  suffering  country 
Under  a  hand  accursed! 

Lord.  I  '11  send  my  prayers  with  him. 

[Exeunt. 


Act  IV.  Sc.  i.  THE  TRAGEDY  OF 

ACT   FOURTH. 
Scene  I. 

A  cavern.     In  the  middle,  a  boiling  caiddron. 

Thunder,     Enter  the  three  Witches. 

First  Witch.  Thrice  the  brinded  cat  hath  mew'd. 
Sec.  Witch.  Thrice  and  once  the  hedge-pig  whined. 
Third  Witch.  Harpier  cries  '  'Tis  time,  'tis  time.' 
First  Witch.  Round  about  the  cauldron  go: 

In  the  poison'd  entrails  throw. 

Toad,  that  under  cold  stone 

Days  and  nights  has  thirty  one 

Swelter'd  venom  sleeping  got, 

Boil  thou  first  i'  the  charmed  pot. 
All.  Double,  double  toil  and  trouble;  lo 

Fire  burn  and  cauldron  bubble. 
Sec.  Witch.  Fillet  of  a  fenny  snake, 

In  the  cauldron  boil  and  bake; 

Eye  of  newt  and  toe  of  frog, 

Wool  of  bat  and  tongue  of  dog, 

Adder's  fork  and  blind-worm's  sting, 

Lizard's  leg  and  howlet's  wing. 

For  a  charm  of  powerful  trouble, 

Like  a  hell-broth  boil  and  bubble. 
All.  Double,  double  toil  and  trouble;  20 

Fire  burn  and  cauldron  bubble. 
Third  Witch.  Scale  of  dragon,  tooth  of  wolf, 

Witches'  mummy,  maw  and  gulf 

Of  the  ravin'd  salt-sea  shark. 

Root  of  hemlock  digg'd  i'  the  dark, 

82 


MACBETH  Act  IV.  Sc.  i. 

Liver  of  blaspheming  Jew, 

Gall  of  goat  and  slips  of  yew 

Sliver'd  in  the  moon's  eclipse, 

Nose  of  Turk  and  Tartar's  lips, 

Finger  of  birth-strangled  babe  30 

Ditch-deliver'd  by  a  drab, 

Make  the  gruel  thick  and  slab: 

Add  thereto  a  tiger's  chaudron, 

For  the  ingredients  of  our  cauldron. 
AIL  Double,  double  toil  and  trouble; 

Fire  burn  and  cauldron  bubble. 
Sec.  Witch.  Cool  it  with  a  baboon's  blood. 

Then  the  charm  is  firm  and  good. 

Enter  Hecate  to  the  other  three  Witches. 

Hec.  O,  well  done!  I  commend  your  pains; 

And  every  one  shall  share  i'  the  gains:  40 

And  now  about  the  cauldron  sing, 

Like  elves  and  fairies  in  a  ring, 

Enchanting  all  that  you  put  in. 

[Music  and  a  song:     '  Black  spirits,'  etc. 
[Hecate  retires. 
Sec.  Witch.  By  the  pricking  of  my  thumbs. 

Something  wicked  this  way  comes: 

Open,  locks, 

Whoever  knocks! 

Enter  Macbeth. 

Macb.  How  now,  you  secret,  black,  and  midnight  hags' 

What  is't  you  do? 
^^^-  A  deed  without  a  name. 

Macb.   I  conjure  you,  by  that  which  you  profess,  50 

Howe'er  you  come  to  know  it,  answer  me : 

83 


Act  IV.  Sc.  i.  THE  TRAGEDY  OF 

Though  you  untie  the  winds  and  let  them  fight 

Against  the  churches;  though  the  yesty  waves 

Confound  and  swallow  navigation  up; 

Though  bladed  corn  be  lodged  and  trees  blown  down ; 

Though  castles  topple  on  their  warders'  heads; 

Though  palaces  and  pyramids  do  slope 

Their  heads  to  their  foundations;  though  the  treasure 

Of  nature's  germins  tumble  all  together, 

Even  till  destruction  sicken;   answer  me  60 

To  what  I  ask  you. 
First  Witch.  Speak. 

Sec.  Witch.  Demand. 

I'hird  Witch.  We  '11  answer. 

First  Witch.  Say,   if  thou  'dst   rather   hear   it   from   our 
mouths, 

Or  from  our  masters? 
Macb.  Call  'em,  let  me  see  'em. 

First  Witch.  Pour  in  sow's  blood,  that  hath  eaten 

Her  nine  farrow;  grease  that  's  sweaten 

From  the  murderer's  gibbet  throw 

Into  the  flame. 
All.  Come,  high  or  low; 

Thyself  and  office  deftly  show! 

Thunder.     First  Apparition:  an  armed  Head. 

Macb.  Tell  me,  thou  unknown  power, — 
First  Witch.  He  knows  thy  thought : 

Hear  his  speech,  but  say  thou  nought.  70 

First  App.  Macbeth!  Macbeth!  Macbeth!  beware  Mac- 
duff; 
Beware  the  thane  of  Fife.     Dismiss  me:  enough. 

[Descends. 
Macb.  Whate'er  thou  art,  for  thy  good  caution  thanks; 
Thou  hast   harp'd   my  fear  aright:   but  one  word 
more, — 

84 


MACBETH  Act  IV.  Sc.  I 

First  Witch.  He  will  not  be  commanded;  here 's  another, 
More  potent  than  the  first. 

Thunder.     Second  Apparition:  a  bloody  Child. 

Sec.App.  Macbeth!  Macbeth!  Macbeth! 

Mach.  Had  I  three  ears,  I  'Id  hear  thee. 

Sec.  App.  Be  bloody,  bold  and  resolute;  laugh  to  scorn 
The  power  of  man,  for  none  of  woman  born  80 

Shall  harm  Macbeth.  [Descends. 

Mach.  Then  live,  Macdufif:   what  need  I  fear  of  thee? 
But  yet  I  '11  make  assurance  doubly  sure, 
And  take  a  bond  of  fate:  thou  shalt  not  live; 
That  I  may  tell  pale-hearted  fear  it  lies. 
And  sleep  in  spite  of  thunder. 

Thunder.     Third  Apparition:  a  Child  crozvned,  ivith  a  tree 
in  his  hand. 

What  is  this. 
That  rises  Hke  the  issue  of  a  king, 
And  wears  upon  his  baby-brow  the  round 
And  top  of  sovereignty? 

All  Listen,  but  speak  not  to  't. 

Third  App.  Be  lion-mettled,  proud,  and  take  no  care    90 
Who  chafes,  who  frets,  or  where  conspirers  are: 
Macbeth  shall  never  vanquish'd  be  until 
Great  Birnam  wood  to  high  Dunsinane  hill 
Shall  come  against  him.  [Descends, 

Mach.  That  will  never  be : 

Who  can  impress  the  forest,  bid  the  tree 
Unfix    his    earth-bound    root?     Sweet    bodements! 

good ! 
Rebellion's  head,  rise  never,  till  the  wood 
Of  Birnam  rise,  and  our  high-placed  Macbeth 
Shall  live  the  lease  of  nature,  pay  his  breath 


Act  IV.  Sc.  i.  THE  TRAGEDY  OF 

To  time  and  mortal  custom.     Yet  my  heart  lOO 

Throbs  to  know  one  thing:  tell  me,  if  your  art 
Can  tell  so  much:  shall  Banquo's  issue  ever 
Reign  in  this  kingdom? 

All.  Seek  to  know  no  more. 

Macb.  I  will  be  satisfied:  deny  me  this, 

And  an  eternal  curse  fall  on  you!     Let  me  know: 
Why  sinks  that  cauldron?  and  what  noise  is  this? 

[Hautboys. 

First  Witch.  Show! 

Sec.  Witch.  Show! 

Third  Witch.  Show! 

All.  Show  his  eyes,  and  grieve  his  heart;  no 

Come  like  shadows,  so  depart! 

A  shozi'  of  eight  Kings,  the  last  zcith  a  glass  in  his  hand; 
Banquo's  Ghost  foUozving. 

Macb.  Thou  art  too  like  the  spirit  of  Banquo:    down! 
Thy  crown  does  sear  mine  eye-balls.     And  thy  hair. 
Thou  other  gold-bound  brow,  is  like  the  first. 
A  third  is  like  the  former.     Filthy  hags! 
Why  do  you  show  me  this?     A  fourth!     Start,  eyes! 
What,  will  the  Hne  stretch  out  to  the  crack  of  doom? 
Another  yet!     A  seventh!     I  '11  see  no  more: 
And  yet  the  eighth  appears,  who  bears  a  glass 
Which  show^s  me  many  more;  and  some  I  see       120 
That  two-fold  balls  and  treble  sceptres  carry: 
Horrible  sight!     Now  I  see  'tis  true; 
For  the  blood-bolter'd  Banquo  smiles  upon  me, 
And  points  at  them  for  his.     What,  is  this  so? 

First  Witch.  Ay,  sir,  all  this  is  so :   but  why 
Stands  Macbeth  thus  amazedly? 

86 


MACBETH  Act  IV.  Sc.  i. 

Come,  sisters,  cheer  we  up  his  sprites. 

And  show  the  best  of  our  delights : 

I  '11  charm  the  air  to  give  a  sound. 

While  you  perform  your  antic  round,  130 

That  this  great  king  may  kindly  say 

Our  duties  did  his  welcome  pay. 

\_Mttsic.     The  Witches  danee,  and  then 
vanish,  with  Hecate. 
Macb.  Where    are    they?     Gone?     Let    this    pernicious 
hour 
Stand  aye  accursed  in  the  calendar! 
Come  in,  without  there! 

Enter  Lennox. 

Len.  What 's  your  grace's  will? 

Macb.  Saw  you  the  weird  sisters? 

Len.  No,  my  lord. 

Macb.  Came  they  not  by  you? 

Len.  No  indeed,  my  lord. 

Macb.  Infected  be  the  air  whereon  they  ride, 

And  damn'd  all  those  that  trust  them!     I  did  hear 
The  galloping  of  horse:   who  was  't  came  by?       140 

Len.  'Tis  two  or  three,  my  lord,  that  bring  you  word 
Macduff  is  fled  to  England. 

Macb.  Fled  to  England! 

Len.  Ay,  my  good  lord. 

Macb.    [Aside]   Time,   thou   anticipatest    my    dread    ex- 
ploits: 
The  flighty  purpose  never  is  o'ertook 
Unless  the  deed  go  with  it:  from  this  moment 
The  very  firstlings  of  my  heart  shall  be 
The  firstlings  of  my  hand.     And  even  now, 
To  crown  my  thoughts  with  acts,  be  it  thought  and 
done: 

-87 


Act  IV.  Sc.  ii.  THE  TRAGEDY  OF 

The  castle  of  Macduff  I  will  surprise;  150 

Seize  upon  Fife;   give  to  the  edge  o'  the  sword 

His  wife,  his  babes,  and  all  unfortunate  souls 

That  trace  him  in  his  line.    No  boasting  like  a  fool; 

This  deed  I  '11  do  before  this  purpose  cool: 

But  no  more  sights! — \\niere  are  these  gentlemen? 

Come,  bring  me  where  they  are.  [Exeunt. 

Scene  II. 

Fife.     Macduif's  castle. 
Enter  Lady  Macduff,  her  Son,  and  Ross. 

L.  Macd.  What  had  he  done,  to  make  him  fly  the  land? 

Ross.  You  must  have  patience,  madam. 

L.  Macd.  He  had  none: 

His  flight  was  madness :  when  our  actions  do  not. 
Our  fears  do  make  us  traitors. 

Ross.  You  know  not 

Whether  it  was  his  wisdom  or  his  fear. 

L.  Macd.  Wisdom!  to  leave  his  wife,  to  leave  his  babes, 
His  mansion  and  his  titles,  in  a  place 
From  whence  himself  does  fly?     He  loves  us  not: 
He  wants  the  natural  touch:    for  the  poor  wren. 
The  most  diminutive  of  birds,  will  fight,  10 

Her  young  ones  in  her  nest,  against  the  owl. 
All  is  the  fear  and  nothing  is  the  love; 
As  little  is  the  wisdom,  where  the  flight 
So  runs  against  all  reason. 

Ross.  ]\Iy  dearest  coz, 

I  pray  you,  school  yourself:  but,  for  your  husband. 
He  is  noble,  wise,  judicious,  and  best  knows 
The   fits   o'   the   season.     I   dare   not   speak   much 
further: 

88 


MACBETH  Act  IV.  Sc.  ii. 

But  cruel  are  the  times,  when  we  are  traitors 

And  do  not  know  ourselves;  when  we  hold  rumour 

From  what  we  fear,  yet  know  not  what  we  fear,      20 

But  float  upon  a  wild  and  violent  sea 

Each  way  and  move.     I  take  my  leave  of  you: 

Shall  not  be  long  but  I  '11  be  here  again: 

Things  at  the  worst  will  cease,  or  else  climb  upward 

To  what  they  were  before.     My  pretty  cousin, 

Blessing  upon  you! 

L.  Macd.  Father'd  he  is,  and  yet  he  's  fatherless. 

Ross.  I  am  so  much  a  fool,  should  I  stay  longer, 
It  would  be  my  disgrace  and  your  discomfort: 
I  take  my  leave  at  once.  [Exit. 

L.Macd.  Sirrah,  your  father's  dead:     30 

And  what  will  you  do  now?     How  will  you  live? 

Son.  As  birds  do,  mother. 

L.  Macd.  What,  with  worms  and  flies? 

Son.  With  what  I  get,  I  mean:   and  so  do  they. 

L.Macd.  Poor  bird!    thou 'Idst  never  fear  the  net  nor 
lime, 
The  pitfall  nor  the  gin. 

Son.  Why  should  I,  mother?     Poor  birds  they  are  not 
set  for. 
My  father  is  not  dead,  for  all  your  saying. 

L.  Macd.  Yes,  he  is  dead:  how  wilt  thou  do  for  a  father? 

Son.  Nay,  how  will  you  do  for  a  husband? 

L.  Macd.  Why,  I  can  buy  me  twenty  at  any  market,      40 

Son.  Then  you  '11  buy  'em  to  sell  again. 

L.  Macd.  Thou  speak'st  with  all  thy  wit,  and  yet,  i'  faith. 
With  wit  enough  for  thee. 

Son.  Was  my  father  a  traitor,  mother? 

L.  Macd.  Ay,  that  he  was. 

Son.  W^hat  is  a  traitor? 

89 


Act  IV.  Sc.  ii.  THE  TRAGEDY  OF 

L.  Macd.  Why,  one  that  swears  and  lies. 
Son.  And  be  all  traitors  that  do  so? 
L.  Macd.  Every  one  that  does  so  is  a  traitor,  and  must 
be  hanged.  50 

Son.  And  must  they  all  be  hanged  that  swear  and  lie? 
L.  Macd.  Every  one. 
Son.  Who  must  hang  them? 
L.  Macd.  Why,  the  honest  men. 
Son.  Then  the  liars  and  swearers  are  fools ;  for  there 

are  liars  and  swearers  enow  to  beat  the  honest 

men  and  hang  up  them. 
L.  Macd.  Now,  God  help  thee,  poor  monkey! 

But  how  wilt  thou  do  for  a  father? 
Son.  If  he  were  dead,  you  'Id  weep  for  him :   if  you       60 

would  not,  it  were  a  good  sign  that  I  should 

quickly  have  a  new  father. 
L.Macd.  Poor  prattler,  how  thou  talk'st! 

Enter  a  Messenger. 

Mess.  Bless  you,  fair  dame!     I  am  not  to  you  known, 
Though  in  your  state  of  honour  I  am  perfect. 
I  doubt  some  danger  does  approach  you  nearly: 
If  you  will  take  a  homely  man's  advice. 
Be  not  found  here;  hence,  with  your  little  ones. 
To  fright  you  thus,  methinks  I  am  too  savage; 
To  do  worse  to  you  were  fell  cruelty,  70 

Which  is  too  nigh  your  person.     Heaven  preserve 

you! 
I  dare  abide  no  longer.  [Exit 

L.Macd.  Whither  should  I  fly? 

I  have  done  no  harm.  But  I  remember  now 
I  am  in  this  earthly  world,  where  to  do  harm 
Is  often  laudable,  to  do  good  sometime 

90 


MACBETH  Act  IV.  Sc.  iii. 

Accounted  dangerous  folly:  why  then,  alas, 
Do  I  put  up  that  womanly  defence. 
To  say   I   have  done   no   harm? — What   are   these 
faces? 

Enter  Murderers. 

First  Mur.  Where  is  your  husband? 

L.  Macd.  I  hope,  in  no  place  so  unsanctified  8o 

Where  such  as  thou  mayst  find  him. 
First  Mur.  c  He 's  a  traitor. 

Son.  Thou  liest,  thou  shag-ear'd  villain! 
First  Mur.  What,  you  ^gg\ 

[Stabbing  him. 

Young  fry  of  treachery! 

Son.  He  has  kill'd  me,  mother: 

Run  away,  I  pray  you!  [Dies. 

[Exit  Lady  Macduif,  crying  '  Murderer! ' 

[Exeunt  murderers,  following  her. 

Scene  III. 

England.     Before  the  King's  palace. 
Enter  Malcolm  and  Macduff. 

Mai.  Let  us  seek  out  some  desolate  shade,  and  there 
Weep  our  sad  bosoms  empty. 

Macd.  Let  us  rather 

Hold  fast  the  mortal  sword,  and  Hke  good  men 
Bestride  our  down-fall'n  birthdom:    each  new  morn 
New  widows  howl,  new  orphans  cry,  new  sorrows 
Strike  heaven  on  the  face,  that  it  resounds 
As  if  it  felt  with  Scotland  and  yell'd  out 
Like  syllable  of  dolour. 
Mai  What  I  believe,  I'll  wail; 

91 


Act  IV.  Sc.  iii.  THE  TRAGEDY  OF 

What  know,  believe;  and  what  I  can  redress, 
As  I  shall  find  the  time  to  friend,  I  will.  lo 

What  you  have  spoke,  it  may  be  so  perchance. 
This  tyrant,  whose  sole  name  blisters  our  tongues. 
Was  once  thought  honest:  you  have  loved  him  well; 
He  hath  not  touch'd  you  yet.     I   am  young;  but 

something 
You  may  deserve  of  him  through  me ;   and  wisdom 
To  ofTer  up  a  weak,  poor,  innocent  lamb 
To  appease  an  angry  god. 

Macd.  I  am  not  treacherous. 

Mai  But  Alacbeth  is. 

A  good  and  virtuous  nature  may  recoil  19 

In  an  imperial  charge.     But  I  shall  crave  your  par- 
don; 
That  which  you  are,  my  thoughts  cannot  transpose: 
Angels  are  bright  still,  though  the  brightest  fell: 
Though  all  things   foul  would  wear  the  brows  of 

grace, 
Yet  grace  must  still  look  so. 

Macd.  I  have  lost  my  hopes. 

Mai.  Perchance  even  there  where  I  did  find  my  doubts. 
Why  in  that  rawness  left  you  wife  and  child, 
Those  precious  motives,  those  strong  knots  of  love, 
Without  leave-taking?     I  pray  you. 
Let  not  my  jealousies  be  your  dishonours, 
But  mine  ow^n  safeties.     You  may  be  rightly  just,  30 
Whatever  I  shall  think. 

Macd.  Bleed,  bleed,  poor  country: 

Great  tyranny,  lay  thou  thy  basis  sure, 
For  goodness  dare  not  check  thee:  wear  thou  thy 

wrongs ; 
The  title  is  afifeer'd.     Fare  thee  well,  lord: 
I  would  not  be  the  villain  that  thou  think'st 

92 


MACBETH  Act  IV.  Sc.  iii. 

For  the  whole  space  that 's  in  the  tyrant's  grasp 
And  the  rich  East  to  boot. 

Mai.  Be  not  offended: 

I  speak  not  as  in  absolute  fear  of  you. 
I  think  our  country  sinks  beneath  the  yoke; 
It  weeps,  it  bleeds,  and  each  new  day  a  gash        40 
Is  added  to  her  wounds:   I  think  w^ithal 
There  would  be  hands  uplifted  in  my  right; 
And  here  from  gracious  England  have  I  offer 
Of  goodly  thousands:   but  for  all  this, 
When  I  shall  tread  upon  the  tyrant's  head. 
Or  wear  it  on  my  sword,  yet  my  poor  country 
Shall  have  more  vices  than  it  had  before, 
More  suffer  and  more  sundry  ways  than  ever. 
By  him  that  shall  succeed. 

Macd.  What  should  he  be? 

Mai.  It  is  myself  I  mean :   in  w^hom  I  know  50 

All  the  particulars  of  vice  so  grafted 
That,  when  they  shall  be  open'd,  black  Macbeth 
Will  seem  as  pure  as  snow,  and  the  poor  state 
Esteem  him  as  a  lamb,  being  compared 
With  my  confineless  harms. 

Macd.  Not  in  the  legions 

Of  horrid  hell  can  come  a  devil  more  damn'd 
In  evils  to  top  Macbeth. 

Mai.  I  grant  him  bloody, 

Luxurious,  avaricious,  false,  deceitful, 
Sudden,  malicious,  smacking  of  every  sin 
That  has  a  name:   but  there  's  no  bottom,  none,    60 
In  my  voluptuousness:  your  wives,  your  daughters, 
Your  matrons,  and  your  maids,  could  not  fill  up 
The  cistern  of  my  lust,  and  my  desire 

93 


Act  IV.  Sc.  iii.  THE  TRAGEDY  OK 

All  continent  impediments  would  o'erbear, 
That  did  oppose  my  will:   better  Alacbeth 
Than  such  an  one  to  reign. 

Macd.  Boundless  intemperance 

In  nature  is  a  tyranny;   it  hath  been 
The  untimely  emptying  of  the  happy  throne, 
And  fall  of  many  kings.     But  fear  not  yet 
To  take  upon  you  what  is  yours:    you  may  70 

Convey  your  pleasures  in  a  spacious  plenty, 
And  yet  seem  cold,  the  time  you  may  so  hoodwink: 
We  have  willing  dames  enough;  there  cannot  be 
That  vulture  in  you,  to  devour  so  many 
As  w'ill  to  orreatness  dedicate  themselves, 
Finding  it  so  inclined. 

Mai.  AMth  this  there  grows 

In  my  most  ill-composed  affection  such 
A  stanchless  avarice  that,  were  I  king, 
I  should  cut  off  the  nobles  for  their  lands, 
Desire  his  jewels  and  this  other's  house:  80 

And  my  more-having  would  be  as  a  sauce 
To  make  me  hunger  more,  that  I  should  forge 
Quarrels  unjust  against  the  good  and  loyal. 
Destroying  them  for  wealth. 

Macd.  This  avarice 

Sticks  deeper,  grows  with  more  pernicious  root 
Than  summer-seeming  lust,  and  it  hath  been 
The  sword  of  our  slain  kings  :   yet  do  not  fear  ; 
Scotland  hath  foisons  to  fill  up  your  will 
Of  your  mere  own:    all  these  are  portable, 
With  other  graces  weigh'd.  90 

Mai.  But  I  Have  none:    the  king-becoming  graces, 
As  justice,  verity,  temperance,  stableness, 

94 


MACBETH  Act  IV.  Sc.  iii. 

Bounty,  perseverance,  mercy,  lowliness, 

Devotion,  patience,  courage,  fortitude, 

I  have  no  relish  of  them,  but  abound 

In  the  division  of  each  several  crime, 

Acting  it  many  ways.     Nay,  had  I  power,  I  should 

Pour  the  sweet  milk  of  concord  into  hell, 

Uproar  the  universal  peace,  confound 

All  unity  on  earth. 

Macd.  O  Scotland,  Scotland!  lOO 

Mai  If  such  a  one  be  fit  to  govern,  speak: 
I  am  as  I  have  spoken. 

Macd.  Fit  to  govern! 

No,  not  to  live.     O  nation  miserable! 
With  an  untitled  tyrant  bloody-scepter'd, 
When  shalt  thou  see  thy  wholesome  days  again, 
Since  that  the  truest  issue  of  thy  throne 
By  his  own  interdiction  stands  accursed. 
And  does  blaspheme  his  breed?     Thy  royal  father 
Was  a  most  sainted  king:   the  queen  that  bore  thee, 
Oftener  upon  her  knees  than  on  her  feet,  no 

Died  every  day  she  lived.     Fare  thee  well! 
These  evils  thou  repeat'st  upon  thyself 
Have  banish'd  me  from  Scotland.     O  my  breast, 
Thy  hope  ends  here! 

Mai  Macduff,  this  noble  passion, 

Child  of  integrity,  hath  from  my  soul 
Wiped  the  black  scruples,  reconciled  my  thoughts 
To  thy  good  truth  and  honour.     DeviHsh  Macbeth 
By  many  of  these  trains  hath  sought  to  win  me 
Into  his  power:   and  modest  wisdom  plucks  me 
From  over-credulous  haste:    but  God  above         120 
Deal  between  thee  and  me!  for  even  now 

95 


Act  IV.  Sc.  iii.  THE  TRAGEDY  OF 

I  put  myself  to  thy  direction,  and 
Unspeak  mine  own  detraction;   here  abjure 
The  taints  and  blames  I  laid  upon  myself, 
For  strangers  to  my  nature.     I  am  yet 
Unknown  to  woman,  never  was  forsworn, 
Scarcely  have  coveted  what  was  mine  own, 
At  no  time  broke  my  faith,  would  not  betray 
The  devil  to  his  fellow,  and  delight 
No  less  in  truth  than  life:   my  first  false  speaking 
Was  this  upon  myself:  what  I  am  truly,  131 

Is  thine  and  my  poor  country's  to  command: 
Whither  indeed,  before  thy  here-approach, 
Old  Siward,  with  ten  thousand  warlike  men, 
Already  at  a  point,  was  setting  forth. 
Now  we  '11  together,  and  the  chance  of  goodness 
Be  like  our  warranted  quarrel!     Why  are  you  silent? 
Macd.  Such  welcome  and  unwelcome  things  at  once 
'Tis  hard  to  reconcile. 

Enter  a  Doctor. 

Mai  Well,  more  anon.     Comes  the  king  forth,  I  pray 
you?  140 

Doct.  Ay,  sir;  there  are  a  crew  of  wretched  souls 
That  stay  his  cure :  their  malady  convinces 
The  great  assay  of  art;   but  at  his  touch. 
Such  sanctity  hath  heaven  given  his  hand. 
They  presently  amend. 

Mel.  I  thank  you,  doctor.      [Exit  Doctor. 

Macd.  What  's  the  disease  he  means? 

Mai  'Tis  call'd  the  evil: 

A  most  miraculous  work  in  this  good  king; 
Which  often,  since  my  here-remain  in  England, 

96 


MACBETH  Act  IV.  Sc.  iii. 

I  have  seen  him  do.     How  he  solicits  heaven, 

Himself  best  knows :   but  strangely-visited  people, 

All  swoln  and  ulcerous,  pitiful  to  the  eye,  151 

The  mere  despair  of  surgery,  ne  cures, 

Hanging  a  golden  stamp  about  their  necks, 

Put  on  with  holy  prayers :   and  'tis  spoken. 

To  the  succeeding  royalty  he  leaves 

The  healing  benediction.     With  this  strange  virtue 

He  hath  a  heavenly  gift  of  prophecy, 

And  sundry  blessings  hang  about  his  throne 

That  speak  him  full  of  grace. 

Enter  Ross. 

Macd.  See,  who  comes  here? 

Mai.  My  countryman;  but  yet  I  know  him  not.  160 

Macd.  Aly  ever  gentle  cousin,  welcome  hither. 

Mai.  I  know  him  now :   Good  God,  betimes  remove 
The  means  that  makes  us  strangers! 

Ross.  Sir,  Amen. 

Macd.  Stands  Scotland  where  it  did? 

Ross.  Alas,  poor  country! 

Almost  afraid  to  know  itself!     It  cannot 
Be  call'd  our  mother,  but  our  grave:  where  nothing, 
But  who  knows  nothing,  is  once  seen  to  smile; 
Where  sighs  and  groans  and  shrieks  that  rend  the 

air, 
Are  made,  not  mark'd;  where  violent  sorrow  seems 
A  modern  ecstasy:  the  dead  man's  knell  170 

Is  there  scarce  ask'd  for  who;   and  good  men's  lives 
Expire  before  the  flowers  in  their  caps. 
Dying  or  ere  they  sicken. 

Macd.  O,  relation 

Too  nice,  and  yet  too  true! 

97 


Act  IV.  Sc.  iii.  THE  TRAGEDY  OF 

Mai.  What 's  the  newest  grief? 

Ross.  That  of  an  hour's  age  doth  hiss  the  speaker; 
Each  minute  teems  a  new  one. 

Macd.  How  does  my  wife? 

Ross.  Why,  well. 

Macd.  And  all  my  children? 

Ross.  Well  too. 

Macd.  The  tyrant  has  not  batter'd  at  their  peace? 

Ross.  No;  they  were  well  at  peace  when  I  did  leave  'em. 

Macd.  Be  not  a  niggard  of  your  speech:   how  goes  't? 

Ross.  When  I  came  hither  to  transport  the  tidings,       i8i 
Which  I  have  heavily  borne,  there  ran  a  rumour 
Of  many  worthy  fellows  that  were  out; 
Which  was  to  my  behef  witness'd  the  rather, 
For  that  I  saw  the  tyrant's  power  a-foot: 
Now  is  the  time  of  help;  your  eye  in  Scotland 
Would  create  soldiers,  make  our  women  fight, 
To  doff  their  dire  distresses. 

Mai.  Be  't  their  comfort 

We  are  coming  thither:   gracious  England  hath 
Lent  us  good  Si  ward  and  ten  thousand  men;        190 
An  older  and  a  better  soldier  none 
That  Christendom  gives  out. 

Ross.  Would  I  could  answer 

This  comfort  with  the  Hke!     But  I  have  words 
That  would  be  howl'd  out  in  the  desert  air, 
Where  hearing  should  not  latch  them. 

Macd.  What  concern  they? 

The  general  cause?  or  is  it  a  fee-grief 
Due  to  some  single  breast? 

Ross.  No  mind  that 's  honest 

But  in  it  shares  some  woe,  though  the  main  part 

98 


MACBETH  Act  IV.  Sc.  iii. 

Pertains  to  you  alone. 
Macd.  If  it  be  mine, 

Keep  it  not  from  me,  quickly  let  me  have  it.         200 
Ross.  Let  not  your  ears  despise  my  tongue  for  ever, 

Which  shall  possess  them  with  the  heaviest  sound 

That  ever  yet  they  heard. 
Macd.  Hum!  I  guess  at  it. 

Ross.  Your  castle  is  surprised;   your  wife  and  babes 

Savagely  slaughter'd:   to  relate  the  manner, 

Were,  on  the  quarry  of  these  murder'd  deer, 

To  add  the  death  of  you. 
Mai.  [Merciful  heaven! 

What,  man!   ne'er  pull  your  hat  upon  your  brows; 

Give  sorrow  words :  the  grief  that  does  not  speak 

Whispers  the  o'erfraught  heart,  and  bids  it  break. 
Macd.  My  children  too? 
Ross.  Wife,  children,  servants,  all     211 

That  could  be  found. 
Macd.  And  I  must  be  from  thence! 

My  wife  kill'd  too? 
Ross.  I  have  said. 

Mai.  Be  comforted: 

Let 's  make  us  medicines  of  our  great  revenge, 

To  cure  this  deadly  grief. 
Macd.  He  has  no  children.     All  my  pretty  ones? 

Did  you  say  all  ?     O  hell-kite !     All  ? 

What,  all  my  pretty  chickens  and  their  dam 

At  one  fell  swoop? 
Mai.  Dispute  it  like  a  man. 
Macd.  I  shall  do  so;  220 

But  I  must  also  feel  it  as  a  man: 

I  cannot  but  remember  such  things  were, 

99 


Act  V.  Sc.  i.  THE  TRAGEDY  OF 

That  were  most  precious  to  me.    Did  heaven  look  on, 
And  would  not  take  their  part?     Sinful  Macduff, 
They  v>ere  all  struck  for  thee!  naught  that  I  am, 
Not  for  their  own  demerits,  but  for  mine. 
Fell  slaughter  on  their  souls:  heaven  rest  them  now! 

Mai.  Be  this  the  whetstone  of  your  sword:  let  grief 
Convert  to  anger;   blunt  not  the  heart,  enrage  it. 

Macd.  O,  I  could  play  the  woman  with  mine  eyes,       230 
And  braggart  with  my  tongue!     But,  gentle  heav- 
ens. 
Cut  short  all  intermission ;   front  to  front 
Bring  thou  this  fiend  of  Scotland  and  myself; 
Within  my  sword's  length  set  him;   if  he  'scape, 
Heaven  forgive  him  too! 

Mai  This  tune  goes  manly. 

Come,  go  we  to  the  king;   our  power  is  ready; 
Our  lack  is  nothing  but  our  leave.     Macbeth 
Is  ripe  for  shaking,  and  the  powers  above 
Put  on  their  instruments.     Receive  what  cheer  you 
may;  239 

The  night  is  long  that  never  finds  the  day.    [  Exeunt. 

ACT  FIFTH. 
Scene  I. 

Dunsinanc.     Ante-room  in  the  eastle. 
Enter  a  Doctor  of  Physie  and  a  W aiting-Gentlczvomun. 

Doct.  I  have  two  nights  watched  with  you,  but  can 
perceive  no  truth  in  your  report.  When  was  it 
she  last  walked? 

Cent.  Since  his  majesty  went  into  the  field,  I  have 
seen  her  rise  from  her  bed,  throw  her  night- 

100 


MACBETH  Aot  V.  Sc.  i. 

gown  upon  her,  unlock  her  closet,  take  forth 
paper,  fold  it,  write  upon  't,  read  it,  afterwards 
seal  it,  and  again  return  to  bed;  yet  all  this 
while  in  a  most  fast  sleep. 

Doct.  A  great  perturbation  in  nature,  to  receive  at     lo 
once  the  benefit  of  sleep  and  do  the  eiifects  of 
watching!     In  this  slumbery  agitation,  besides 
her   walking    and    other    actual    performances, 
what,  at  any  time,  have  you  heard  her  say? 

Gcnf.  That,  sir,  which  I  will  not  report  after  her. 

Doct.  You  may  to  me,  and  'tis  most  meet  you  should. 

Gciit.  Neither  to  you  nor  any  one,  having  no  witness 
to  confirm  my  speech. 

Enter  Lady  Macbeth,  zvith  a  taper. 

Lo  you,  here  she  comes !     This  is  her  very  guise, 

and,  upon  my  life,  fast  asleep.     Observe  her;     20 

stand  close. 
Doct.  How  came  she  by  that  light? 
Gent.  Why,   it  stood  by  her:  she  has  light  by  her 

continually;  'tis  her  command. 
Doct.  You  see,  her  eyes  are  open. 
Gent.  Ay,  but  their  sense  is  shut. 
Doct.  Wliat  is  it  she   does  now?     Look,  how   she 

rubs  her  hands. 
Gent.  It  is  an  accustomed  action  with  her,  to  seem 

thus  washing  her  hands :   I  have  known  her  con-     30 

tinue  in  this  a  quarter  of  an  hour. 
Lady  M.  Yet  here  's  a  spot. 
Doct.  Hark!     she    speaks:     I    will    set    down    what 

comes  from  her,  to  satisfy  my  remembrance  the 

more  strongly. 

lOI 


Act  V.  Sc.  i.  THE  TRAGEDY  OF 

LadyM.  Out,  damned  spot!  out,  I  say!     One:  two: 

why,  then  'tis  time  to  do 't.     Hell  is   murky. 

Fie,  my  lord,  fie!   a  soldier,  and  afeard?     What 

need  we  fear  who  knows  it,  when  none  can  tell 

our  power  to  account?     Yet  who  would  have     40 

thought  the  old  man  to  have  had  so  much  blood 

in  him? 
Doct.  Do  you  mark  that? 
LadyM.  The  thane  of  Fife  had  a  wife;  where  is  she 

now?     What,  will  these  hands  ne'er  be  clean? 

No  more  o'  that,  my  lord,  no  more  o'  that:  you 

mar  all  with  this  starting. 
Doct.  Go   to,   go   to;    you   have   known  what   you 

should  not. 
Gent.  She   has   spoke   what    she   should   not,    I  am     50 

sure    of    that:     heaven    knows    what    she    has 

known. 
LadyM.  Here's  the  smell  of  the  blood  still:   all  the 

perfumes  of  Arabia  will  not  sweeten  this  little 

hand.     Oh,  oh,  oh! 
Doct.  What  a  sigh  is  there!     The  heart   is   sorely 

charged. 
Gcjif.  I  would  not  have  such  a  heart  in  my  bosom 

for  the  dignity  of  the  whole  body. 
Doct.  Well,  well,  well,—  60 

Gent.  Pray  God  it  be,  sir. 
Doct.  This  disease  is  beyond  my  practice:  yet  I  have 

kdbwn' those  which  have  walked  in  their  sleep 
•  who  have  died  holily  in  their  beds. 
Lady  M.  Wash  your  hands ;  put  on  your  nightgown ; 

look  not  so  pale:  I  tell  you  yet  again,  Banquo  's 

buried;  he  cannot  come  out  on 's  grave. 

102 


MACBETH  Act  V.  Sc.  ii. 

Doct.  Even  so? 

LadyM.  To  bed,  to  bed;    there's  knocking  at  the 

gate:  come,  come,  come,  come,  give  me  your     70 

hand:   what  's  done  cannot  be  undone:   to  bed, 

to  bed,  to  bed.  [Exit. 

Doct.  Will  she  go  now  to  bed? 

Gent.  Directly. 

Doct.  Foul  whisperings  are  abroad:  unnatural  deeds 
Do  breed  unnatural  troubles :   infected  minds 
To  their  deaf  pillows  will  discharge  their  secrets : 
More  needs  she  the  divine  than  the  physician. 
God,  God  forgive  us  all!     Look  after  her; 
Remove  from  her  the  means  of  all  annoyance,       80 
And  still  keep  eyes  upon  her.     So  good  night: 
]\Iy  mind  she  has  mated  and  amazed  my  sight: 
I  think,  but  dare  not  speak. 

Gent.  Good  night,  good  doctor. 

[Exeunt. 

Scene  II. 

The  country  near  Dunsinane. 

Drum  and  colours.     Enter  Menteith,  Caithness,  Angus, 
Lennox,  and  Soldiers. 

Ment.  The  English  power  is  near,  led  on  by  Malcolm', 
His  uncle  Siward  and  the  good  Macduff: 
Revenges  burn  in  them;   for  their  dear  causes 
Would  to  the  bleeding  and  the  grim  alarm 
Excite  the  mortified  man. 

Ang.  Near  Birnam  wood 

Shall  we  w^ell  meet  them ;  that  way  are  they  coming. 

Caith.  Who  knows  if  Donalbain  be  with  his  brother? 

103 


Act  V.  Sc.  ii.  THE  TRAGEDY  OF 

Lcn.  For  certain,  sir,  he  is  not:  I  have  a  file 
Of  all  the  gentry:  there  is  Siward's  son. 
And  many  imrough  youths,  that  even  now  lo 

Protest  their  first  of  manhood. 

Ment.  What  does  the  tyrant? 

Caith.  Great  Dunsinane  he  strongly  fortifies: 

Some  say  he  's  mad;   others,  that  lesser  hate  him, 
Do  call  it  valiant  fury:  but,  for  certain. 
He  cannot  buckle  his  distemper'd  cause 
Within  the  belt  of  rule. 

Aug.  Now  does  he  feel 

His  secret  murders  sticking  on  his  hands; 
Now  minutely  revolts  upbraid  his  faith-breach ; 
Those  he  commands  move  only  in  command. 
Nothing  in  love:   now  does  he  feel  his  title  20 

Hang  loose  about  him,  like  a  giant's  robe 
Upon  a  dwarfish  thief. 

Ment.  Who  then  shall  blame 

His  pester'd  senses  to  recoil  and  start, 
When  all  that  is  within  him  does  condemn 
Itself  for  being  there? 

Caith.  Well,  march  we  on. 

To  give  obedience  where  'tis  truly  owed: 
Meet  we  the  medicine  of  the  sickly  weal. 
And  with  him  pour  we,  in  our  country's  purge, 
Each  drop  of  us. 

Lcn.  Or  so  much  as  it  needs 

To  dew  the  sovereign  flower  and  drown  the  weeds. 
Make  we  our  march  towards  Birnam.  31 

{Exeunt,  marching. 


104 


MACBETH  Act  V.  Sc.  iii. 

Scene  III. 

Dunsinanc.     A  room  in  tha  castle. 
Enter  Macbeth,  Doctor,  and  Attendants. 

Macb.  Bring  me  no  more  reports;  let  them  fly  all : 
Till  Birnam  wood  remove  to  Dunsinane 
I  cannot  taint  with  fear.  What 's  the  boy  Malcolm? 
Was  he  not  born  of  woman?  The  spirits  that  know 
All  mortal  consequences  have  pronounced  me  thus : 
'  Fear  not,  Macbeth;  no  man  that 's  born  of  woman 
Shall  e'er  have  power  upon  thee.'     Then  fly,  false 

thanes, 
And  mingle  with  the  English  epicures: 
The  mind  I  sway  by  and  the  heart  I  bear 
Shall  never  sag  with  doubt  nor  shake  with  fear.     lo 

Ejiter  a  Servant. 

The  devil  damn  thee  black,  thou  cream-faced  loon! 

Where  got'st  thou  that  goose  look? 
Serv.  There  is  ten  thousand — 
Macb.  Geese,  villain? 

Serz'.  Soldiers,  sir. 

Macb.  Go  prick  thy  face  and  over-red  thy  fear, 

Thou  lily-liver'd  boy.     What  soldiers,  patch? 

Death  of  thy  soul!  those  Hnen  cheeks  of  thine 

Are  counsellors  to  fear.     What  soldiers,  whey-face? 
Serv.  The  English  force,  so  please  you. 
Macb.  Take  thy  face  hence.  [Exit  Servant. 

Seyton! — I  am  sick  at  heart, 

When  I  behold — Seyton,  I  say! — This  push  20 

Will  cheer  me  ever,  or  disseat  me  now. 

I  have  lived  long  enough :   my  way  of  life 

105 


Act  V.  Sc.  iii.  THE  TRAGEDY  OF 

Is  fall'ii  into  the  sear,  the  yellow  leaf, 
And  that  which  should  accompany  old  age, 
As  honour,  love,  obedience,  troops  of  friends, 
I  must  not  look  to  have;   but,  in  their  stead, 
Curses,  not  loud  but  deep,  mouth-honour,  breath, 
Which  the  poor  heart  would  fain  deny,  and  dare  noi. 
Seyton! 

Enter  Seyton. 

Sey.  What  's  your  gracious  pleasure? 
Mach.  What  news  more?  30 

Sey.  All  is  confirm 'd,  my  lord,  which  was  reported. 
Mach.  I  '11  fight,  till  from  my  bones  my  flesh  be  hack'd. 

Give  me  my  armour. 
Sey.  'Tis  not  needed  yet. 

Mach.  I  '11  put  it  on. 

Send  out  moe  horses,  skirr  the  country  round; 

Hang  those  that  talk  of  fear.     Give  me  mine  ar- 
mour. 

How  does  your  patient,  doctor? 
Doct.  '  Not  so  sick,  my  lord, 

As  she  is  troubled  with  thick-coming  fancies, 

That  keep  her  from  her  rest. 
Macb.  Cure  her  of  that. 

Canst  thou  not  minister  to  a  mind  diseased,  40 

Pluck  from  the  memory  a  rooted  sorrow, 

Raze  out  the  written  troubles  of  the  brain, 

And  with  some  sweet  oblivious  antidote 

Cleanse  the  stufT'd  bosom  of  that  perilous  stuff 

Which  weighs  upon  the  heart? 
Doct.  Therein  the  patient 

Must  mxinister  to  himself. 
Macb.  Throw  physic  to  the  dogs,  I  '11  none  of  it. 

Come,  put  mine  armour  on;   give  me  my  staff, 

J06 


MACBETH  Act  V.  Sc.  iv. 

Seyton,  send  out.  Doctor,  the  thanes  fly  from  me. 
Come,  sir,  dispatch.  If  thou  couldst,  doctor,  cast 
The  water  of  my  land,  find  her  disease  51 

And  purge  it  to  a  sound  and  pristine  health, 
I  would  applaud  thee  to  the  very  echo, 
That  should  applaud  again.    Pull  't  off,  I  say. 
What  rhubarb,  senna,  or  what  purgative  drug. 
Would  scour  these  English  hence?     Hear'st  thou 
of  them? 

Doct.  Ay,  my  good  lord;   your  royal  preparation 
Makes  us  hear  something. 

Macb.  Bring  it  after  me. 

I  will  not  be  afraid  of  death  and  bane 
Till  Birnam  forest  come  to  Dunsinane.  60 

Doct.    [Aside'\   Were  I  from  Dunsinane  away  and  clear. 
Profit  again  should  hardly  draw  me  here.       [Exeunt. 

Scene  IV. 

Country  near  Birnam  wood. 

Drum  and  colours.  Enter  Malcolm,  old  Sizuard  and  his 
Son,  Macduff,  Menteith,  Caithness,  Angus,  Lennox, 
Ross,  and  Soldiers,  marching. 

Mai.  Cousins,  I  hope  the  days  are  near  at  hand 

That  chambers  will  be  safe. 
Ment.  We  doubt  it  nothing. 

Sizv.  What  wood  is  this  before  us? 

Ment.  The  wood  of  Birnam. 

Mai.  Let  every  soldier  hew  him  down  a  bough. 

And  bear  't  before  him :  thereby  shall  we  shadow 

The  numbers  of  our  host,  and  make  discovery 

Err  in  report  of  us. 

107 


Act  V.  Sc.  V.  THE  TRAGEDY  OF 

Soldiers.  It  shall  be  done. 

Siw.  We  learn  no  other  but  the  confident  tyrant 

Keeps  still  in  Dunsinane,  and  will  endure 

Our  setting  down  before  't. 
Mai.  'Tis  his  main  hope:       lo 

For  where  there  is  advantage  to  be  given, 

Both  more  and  less  have  given  him  the  revolt, 

And  none  serve  with  him  but  constrained  things 

Whose  hearts  are  absent  too. 
Macd.  Let  our  just  censures 

Attend  the  true  event,  and  put  we  on 

Industrious  soldiership. 
Siw.  The  time  approaches, 

That  will  with  due  decision  make  us  know 

What  we  shall  say  we  have  and  what  we  owe. 

Thoughts  speculative  their  unsure  hopes  relate, 

But  certain  issue  strokes  nuist  arbitrate:  20 

Towards  which  advance,  the  war. 

[Exeunt,  marching. 

Scene  V. 

Dunsinane.     JVithiii  the  castle. 

Enter  Macbeth,  Seyton,  and  Soldiers,  zvith  drum  and  colours. 

Macb.  Hang  out  our  banners  on  the  outward  walls; 
The  cry  is  still  '  They  come';   our  castle's  strength 
Will  laugh  a  siege  to  scorn:   here  let  them  lie 
Till  famine  and  the  ague  eat  them  up: 
Were  they  not  forced  with  those  that  should  be  ours, 
We  might  have  met  them  dareful,  beard  to  beard, 
And  beat  them  backward  home. 

[A  cry  of  zvomen  within. 
What  is  that  noise? 

108 


MACBETH  Act  V.  Sc.  v. 

Sey.  It  is  the  cry  of  women,  my  good  lord.  [Exit. 

Mach.  I  have  almost  forgot  the  taste  of  fears : 

The  time  has  been,  my  senses  would  have  cool'd    lO 
To  hear  a  night-shriek,  and  my  fell  of  hair 
Would  at  a  dismal  treatise  rouse  and  stir 
As  life  were  in  't:  I  have  supp'd  full  with  horrors; 
Direness,  famiUar  to  my  slaughterous  thoughts, 
Cannot  once  start  me. 

Re-enter  Seyton. 

Wherefore  was  that  cry? 

Sey.  The  queen,  my  lord,  is  dead. 

Mach.  She  should  have  died  hereafter; 

There  would  have  been  a  time  for  such  a  word. 
To-morrow,  and  to-morrow,  and  to-morrow, 
Creeps  in  this  petty  pace  from,  day  to  day,  20 

To  the  last  syllable  of  recorded  time; 
And  all  our  yesterdays  have  lighted  fools 
The  way  to  dusty  death.     Out,  out,  brief  candle! 
Life  's  but  a  walking  shadow,  a  poor  player 
That  struts  and  frets  his  hour  upon  the  stage 
And  then  is  heard  no  more:  it  is  a  tale 
Told  by  an  idiot,  full  of  sound  and  fury, 
Signifying  nothing. 

Enter  a  Messenger. 

Thou  comest  to  use  thy  tongue;  thy  story  quickly. 
Mess.  Gracious  my  lord,  3° 

I  should  report  that  which  I  say  I  saw, 

But  know  not  how  to  do  it. 
Mach.  Well,  say,  sir. 

Mess,  As  I  did  stand  my  watch  upon  the  hill, 

109 


Act  V.  Sc.  vi.  THE  TRAGEDY  OF 

I  look'd  toward  Birnam,  and  anon,  methought, 
The  wood  began  to  move. 

Macb.  Liar  and  slave! 

Mess.  Let  me  endure  your  wrath,  if  't  be  not  so : 
Within  this  three  mile  may  you  see  it  coming; 
I  say,  a  moving  grove. 

Macb.  If  thou  speak'st  false, 

Upon  the  next  tree  shalt  thou  hang  alive. 
Till  famine  cling  thee :   if  thy  speech  be  sooth,        40 
I  care  not  if  thou  dost  for  me  as  much. 
I  pull  in  resolution,  and  begin 
To  doubt  the  equivocation  of  the  fiend 
That  lies  like  truth:   '  Fear  not,  till  Birnam  wood 
Do  come  to  Dunsinane  ';   and  now  a  wood 
Comes  toward  Dunsinane.     Arm,  arm,  and  out! 
If  this  which  he  avouches  does  appear. 
There  is  nor  flying  hence  nor  tarrying  here. 
I  'gin  to  be  a-weary  of  the  sun,  49 

And  wish  the  estate  o'  the  world  were  now  undone. 
Ring  the  alarum-bell!     Blow,  wind!   come,  wrack! 
At  least  we  '11  die  with  harness  on  our  back.  [Exeunt. 


Scene  VL 

Dunsinane.     Before  the  castle. 

Drum  and  colours.     Enter  Malcolm,  old  Siward,  Macduff, 
and  their  Army,  with  boughs. 

Mai.  Now  near  enough;  your  leavy  screens  throw  down. 
And  show  Hke  those  you  are.     You,  worthy  uncle, 
Shall,  with  my  cousin,  your  right  noble  son, 
Lead  our  first  battle :  worthy  Macduff  and  we 

no 


MACBETH  Act  V.  Sc.  vii. 

Shall  take  upon  's  what  else  remains  to  do, 

According  to  our  order. 
Sizi\  Fare  you  well. 

Do  we  but  find  the  tyrant's  power  to-night, 

Let  us  be  beaten,  if  we  cannot  fight. 
Macd.  Make  all  our  trumpets  speak;  give  them  all  breath, 

Those  clamorous  harbingers  of  blood  and  death.    lo 

[Exeunt. 

Scene  VII. 

Another  part  of  the  field. 

Alarums.     Enter  Macbeth. 

Macb.  They  have  tied  me  to  a  stake;   I  cannot  fly, 

But  bear-like  I  must  fight  the  course.     What  's  he 
That  was  not  born  of  woman?     Such  a  one 
Am  I  to  fear,  or  none. 

Enter  young  Sizi^^ard. 

Yd.  Sizv.  What  is  thy  name? 

Macb.  Thou  'It  be  afraid  to  hear  it. 

Yo.  Sizi'.  No;   though  thou  call'st  thyself  a  hotter  name 

Than  any  is  in  hell. 
Macb.  My  name  's  Macbeth. 

Yo.  Sizv.  The  devil  himself  could  not  pronounce  a  title 

More  hateful  to  mine  ear. 
Macb.  No,  nor  more  fearful. 

Fo.  ^m-.  Thou  liest,  abhorred  tyrant;  with  my  sword    lo 

I  '11  prove  the  lie  thou  speak'st. 

[They  fight,  and  young  Sizvard  is  slain. 
Macb.  Thou  wast  born  of  woman. 

But  swords  I  smile  at,  weapons  laugh  to  scorn, 

Brandish'd  by  man  that  's  of  a  woman  born.       [Exit. 


Act  V.  Sc.  viii.  THE  TRAGEDY  OF 

Alarums.     Enter  Macduff. 

Macd.  That  way  the  noise  is.     Tyrant,  show  thy  face! 
If  thou  be'st  slain  and  with  no  stroke  of  mine, 
My  wife  and  children's  ghosts  will  haunt  me  still. 
I  cannot  strike  at  wretched  kerns,  whose  arms 
Are  hired  to  bear  their  staves :  either  thou,  Macbeth, 
Or  else  my  sword,  with  an  unbatter'd  edge, 
I  sheathe  again  undeeded.     There  thou  shouldst  be; 
By  this  great  clatter,  one  of  greatest  note  21 

Seems  bruited:  let  me  find  him,  fortune! 
And  more  I  beg  not.  [Exit.     Alarums. 

Enter  Malcolm  and  old  Sizuard. 

Siw.  This  way,  my  lord;  the  castle  's  gently  render'd; 

The  tyrant's  people  on  both  sides  do  fight; 

The  noble  thanes  do  bravely  in  the  war; 

The  day  almost  itself  professes  yours. 

And  little  is  to  do. 
Mai.  We  have  met  with  foes 

That  strike  beside  us. 
Siw.  Enter,  sir,  the  castle. 

[Exeunt.     Alarum. 

Scene  VIII. 

Another  part  of  the  field. 

Enter  Macbeth. 

Macb.  Why  should  I  play  the  Roman  fool,  and  die 

On  mine  own  sword?  Whiles  I  see  lives,  the  gashes 
Do  better  upon  them. 


MACBETH  Act  V.  Sc.  viii. 

Enter  Macduff. 

Macd.  Turn,  hell-hound,  turn! 

Macb.  Of  all  men  else  I  have  avoided  thee: 

But  get  thee  back;  my  soul  is  too  much  charged 
With  blood  of  thine  already. 

Macd.  I  have  no  words: 

]\Iy  voice  is  in  my  sword,  thou  bloodier  villain 
Than  terms  can  give  thee  out!  [They  fight. 

Macb.  Thou  losest  labour: 

As  easy  mayst  thou  the  intrenchant  air 
With  thy  keen  sword  impress  as  make  me  bleed:  lo 
Let  fall  thy  blade  on  vulnerable  crests; 
I  bear  a  charmed  life,  which  must  not  yield 
To  one  of  woman  born. 

Macd.  Despair  thy  charm. 

And  let  the  angel  whom  thou  still  hast  served 
Tell  thee,  Macduff  was  from  his  mother's  w^omb 
.Untimely  ripp'd. 

Macb.  Accursed  be  that  tongue  that  tells  me  so, 
For  it  hath  cow'd  my  better  part  of  man! 
And  be  these  juggling  fiends  no  more  believed, 
That  palter  with  us  in  a  double  sense;  20 

That  keep  the  word  of  promise  to  our  ear, 
And  break  it  to  our  hope.     I  '11  not  fight  with  thee. 

Macd.  Then  yield  thee,  coward, 

And  live  to  be  the  show  and  gaze  o'  the  time: 
We  '11  have  thee,  as  our  rarer  monsters  are, 
Painted  upon  a  pole,  and  underwrit, 
'  Here  may  you  see  the  tyrant/ 

Macb.  I  will  not  yield, 

To  kiss  the  ground  before  young  Malcolm's  feet, 

10  H 

113 


Act  V.  Sc.  viii.  THE  TRAGEDY  OF 

And  to  be  baited  with  the  rabble's  curse. 
Though  Birnam  wood  be  come  to  Dunsinane,        30 
And  thou  opposed,  being  of  no  woman  born, 
Yet  I  will  try  the  last :  before  my  body 
I  throw  my  warlike  shield:  lay  on,  Macduff; 
And  damn'd  be  him  that  first  cries  '  Hold,  enough! ' 
[Exeunt,  fightiiig.     Alanuns. 

Retreat.  Flourish.  Enter,  with  drum  and  colours, Maleol:>:, 
old  Siward,  Ross,  the  other  Thanes,  and  Soldiers. 

Mai.  I  would  the  friends  wx  miss  were  safe  arrived. 
Sii<\  Some  must  go  off:   and  yet,  by  these  I  see, 

So  great  a  day  as  this  is  cheaply  bought. 
Mai.  Macduff  is  missing,  and  your  noble  son. 
Ross.  Your  son,  my  lord,  has  paid  a  soldier's  debt: 

He  only  lived  but  till  he  was  a  man;  40 

The  which  no  sooner  had  his  prowess  confirm'd 

In  the  unshrinking  station  where  he  fought, 

But  like  a  man  he  died. 
Siw.  Then  he  is  dead? 

Ross.  Ay,  and  brought  off  the  field:  your  cause  of  sorrow 

Must  not  be  measured  by  his  worth,  for  then 

It  hath  no  end. 
Sizi^\  Had  he  his  hurts  before? 

Ross.  Ay,  on  the  front. 
Sizv.  Why  then,  God's  soldier  be  he  I 

Had  1  as  many  sons  as  I  have  hairs, 

I  would  not  wish  them  to  a  fairer  death: 

And  so  his  knell  is  knoU'd. 
Mai.  He  's  worth  more  sorrow,     50 

And  that  I  '11  spend  for  him. 
Sizv.  He  's  worth  no  more: 

114 


MACBETH  Act  V.  Sc.  vin. 

They  say  he  parted  well  and  paid  his  score: 
And  so  God  be  with  him!     Here  comes  newer  com- 
fort. 

Re-enter  Macduff,  zvith  Macbetlis  head. 

Macd.  Hail,  king!  for  so  thou  art:  behold,  where  stands 
The  usurper's  cursed  head:   the  time  is  free: 
I  see  thee  compass'd  with  thy  kingdom's  pearl, 
That  speak  my  salutation  in  their  minds; 
Whose  voices  I  desire  aloud  with  mine: 
Hail,  King  of  Scotland! 

All.  Hail,  King  of  Scotland! 

[Flourish. 

Mai.  We  shall  not  spend  a  large  expense  of  time  60 

Before  we  reckon  with  your  several  loves. 
And  make  us  even  with  you.     My  thanes  and  kins- 
men, 
Henceforth  be  earls,  the  first  that  ever  Scotland 
In  such  an  honour  named.     What 's  more  to  do. 
Which  would  be  planted  newly  Vv-ith  the  time. 
As  calling  home  our  exiled  friends  abroad 
That  fled  the  snares  of  watchful  tyranny, 
Producing  forth  the  cruel  ministers 
Of  this  dead  butcher  and  his  fiend-like  queen, 
Who,  as  'tis  thought,  by  self  and  violent  hands      70 
Took  off  her  life;  this,  and  what  needful  else 
That  calls  upon  us,  by  the  grace  of  Grace 
We  will  perform  in  measure,  time  and  place: 
So  thanks  to  all  at  once  and  to  each  one, 
Whom  we  invite  to  see  us  crown'd  at  Scone. 

[Flourish.     Exeunt. 


115 


THE  TRAGLDY  OF 


Glossary. 


A  one,  2l  man  (Theobald  from 
Davenant,  "  a  Thane  "  ; 
Grant  White,  "a  man"); 
III,  iv.  131. 

Absolute,  positive;   III.  vi.  40. 

Abuse,  deceive;   II.  i.  50. 

Acheron,  the  river  of  the  in- 
fernal regions;   III.  v.   15. 

Adder's  fork,  the  forked 
tongue  of  the  adder;  IV.  i.  16, 

Addition,  title;  I.  iii.  106. 

Address' d  them,  prepared 
themselves;   II.   ii.  24. 

Adhere,  were  in  accordance;  I. 
vii.  52. 

Admired,  wondrous-strange; 
III.  iv.  no. 

Advise,  instruct ;  III.  i.  129. 

Afeard,  afraid ;  I.  iii.  96. 

Affection,    disposition;    IV.    iii. 

77- 
Affeer'd,  confirmed;  IV.  iii.  34. 
Alarm,  call  to  arms;  V.  ii.  4. 
Alarum'd,  alarmed ;  II.  i.  53. 
All,  any;  III.  ii.  11. 
;  "and  all  to  all,"  i.  e.  and 

we  all  (drink)  to  all;  III.  iv. 

92. 
All-thing,  in  every  way ;  III.  i. 

13. 

A-making,  in  course  of  prog- 
ress; III.  iv.  34. 

Angel,  genius,  demon ;  V.  viii. 
14. 


Angerly,  angrily;  III.  v..  i. 

Annoyance,  hurt,  harm;  V.  i. 
84. 

Anon,  immediately;  I.  i.  10. 

Anon,  anon,  "  coming,  com- 
ing " ;  the  general  answer  of 
waiters ;  II.  iii.  23. 

An't,  if  it    (Folios,   "and't")', 

III.  vi.  19. 

Antic,  grotesque,  old-fash- 
ioned; IV.  i.  130. 

Anticipatest,  dost  prevent;  IV. 
i.  144. 

Apace,  quickly;  III.  iii.  6. 

Apply,  be  devoted;  III.  ii.  30. 

Approve,  prove ;  I.  vi.  4. 

Argument,  subject,  theme;  II. 
iii.  126. 

Arm'd,  encased  in  armour;  III. 
iv.  loi. 

Aroint  thee,  begone;  I.  iii.  6. 

Artificial,  made  by  art;  III.  v. 

As,  as  if;  II.  iv.  18. 
Assay;   "the  great  a.  of  art," 
the   greatest   effort   of   skill ; 

IV.  iii.  143. 

Attend,  await;  III.  ii.  3. 

Augures,  auguries;  (?)  au- 
gurs; III.  iv.  124. 

Authorised  by,  given  on  the  au- 
thority of;  III.  iv.  66. 
Avouch,  assert;  III.  i.  120. 


116 


MACBETH 


Glossary 


Baby  of  a  girl,  (?)  girl's  doll; 
according  to  others,  "  feeble 
child  of  an  immature  moth- 
er ";  III.  iv.  io6. 

Badged,  smeared,  marked  (as 
with  a  badge)  ;  II.  iii.  io6. 

Bane,  evil,  harm;  V.  iii.  59. 

Battle,  division  of  an  army ;  V. 
vi.  4. 

Beguile,  deceive;  I.  v.  64. 

Bellman  "the  fatal  bellman"; 
II.  ii.  3.     (Cp.  illustration.) 


From  a  XVIth  cent,  black-letter  ballad. 

Bellona,  the  goddess  of  war ;  I. 

ii.  54. 
Bend  up,  strain ;  I.  vii.  79. 
Benison,  blessing;  II.  iv.  40. 
Bent,  determined ;  III.  iv.  134. 
Best,  good,  suitable;  III.  iv.  5. 
Bestow' d,  staying;  III.  i.  30. 
Bestows   himself,    has    settled; 

III.  vi.  24. 
Bestride,  stand  over  in  posture 

of  defence ;  IV.  iii.  4. 
Bides,  lies ;  III.  iv.  26. 
Bill,  catalogue ;  III.  i.  100. 
Birnam,    a    high    hill    twelve 

miles  from  Dunsinane;  IV.  i. 

93. 


Birthdom,   land    of    our   birth, 

mother-country;  IV.  iii.  4. 
Bladed;  "  b.  corn,"  corn  in  the 

blade,   when   the  ear  is   still 

green;  IV.  i.  55. 
Blind-ivorm,   glow-worm;    IV. 

i.  16. 
Blood-bolter'd,     locks     matted 

into  hard  clotted  blood ;  IV. 

i.  123. 
Blow,  blow  upon ;  I.  iii.  15. 
Bodements,  forebodings;  IV.  i. 

96. 
Boot;  "to  b.."  in  addition;  IV. 

iii.  37- 
Borne,     conducted,     managed; 

III.  vi.  3. 

Borne  in  hand,  kept  up  by  false 

hopes ;  III.  i.  81. 
Bosom,  close  and  intimate;   I. 

ii.  64. 
Brainsickly,  madly;  II.  ii.  46. 
Break,  disclose ;  I.  vii.  48. 
Breech'd,     "  having     the     very 

hilt,  or  breech,  covered  with 

blood "    (according   to    some 

"covered  as  with  breeches")  ; 

II.  iii.  121. 
Breed,   family,   parentage ;    IV. 

iii.  108. 
Brinded,     brindled,     streaked ; 

IV.  i.  I. 

Bring,  conduct;  II.  iii.  52. 
Broad,    plain-spoken ;    III.    vi. 

21. 
Broil,  battle;  I.  ii.  6. 
Broke  ope,  broken  open ;  II.  iii. 

71. 
But,  only;  I.  vii.  6. 
By,  past ;  IV.  i.  137. 
By  the  way,  casually;   III.  iv. 

130. 


117 


Glossary 


THE  TRAGEDY  OF 


Cabin'd,  confined;  III.  iv.  24. 
Captains,  trisyllabic  (S.  Walker 
coni.   ''captains   twain"):   I. 

ii.  34- 

Careless,  uncared  for;  I.  iv.  11. 

Casing,  encompassing,  all  sur- 
rounding; III.  iv.  23. 

'Cause,  because;  III.  vi.  21. 

Censures,  opinion ;  V.  iv.  14. 

Champion  me,  fight  in  single 
combat  with  me;  III.  i.  72. 

Clianced,  happened,  taken 
place;  I.  iii.  153. 

Chaps,  jaws,  mouth;  I.  ii.  22. 

Charge ;  "  in  an  imperial  c,"  in 
executing  a  royal  command; 

IV.  iii.  20. 

Charged,   burdened,  oppressed ; 

V.  i.  60. 

Chaudron,  entrails ;  IV.  1.  33. 
Children    (trisyllabic)  ;  IV.  iii. 
177. 


An  early  form  of  chimney. 


Chimneys;  "our  chimneys  were 
blown  down."  an  anachron- 
ism; II.  iii.  60.  (Cp.  the  an- 
nexed cut  from  a  mediaeval 
MS.  depicting  a  primitive 
form  of  chimney.) 

Choke  their  art,  render  their 
skill  useless  ;  I.  ii.  9. 

Chuck,  a  term  of  endearment; 
III.  ii.  45- 

Clear,  serenely;  I.  v.  72. 

Clear,  innocent,  guiltless ;  I. 
vii.  18. 

,  unstained;  II.  i.  28. 

Clearness,  clear  from  suspi- 
cion; III.  i.  133. 

Clept,  called ;  III.  i.  94- 

Cling,  shrivel  up ;  V.  v.  40. 

Close,  join,  unite;  III.  ii.  14. 

,  secret ;  III.  v.  7. 

Closed,  enclosed;  III.  i.  99. 

Cloudy,  sullen,  frowning;  III. 
vi.  41. 

Cock,  cock-crow  ;  "  the  second 
c,"  i.e.  about  three  o'clock  in 
the  morning;  II.  iii.  27. 

Coign  of  vantage,  convenient 
corner ;  I.  vi.  7. 

Cold,  (?)  dissyllabic;  IV.  i.  6. 

Colme-kill,  i.e.  Icolmkill,  the 
cell   of   St.   Columba;    II.   iv. 

Come,  which  have  come ;  I.  iii. 
144. 

Command  upon,  put  your  com- 
mands upon ;  III.  i.  16. 

Commends,  commits,  offers;  I. 
vii.  II. 

Commission;  "those  in  c," 
those  entrusted  with  the 
commission ;  I.  iv.  2. 


118 


MACBETH 


Glossary 


Composition,  terms  of  peace; 
I.  ii.  59- 

Conipt;  "in  c,"  in  account;  I. 
vi.  26. 

Compunctious,  pricking  the 
conscience ;  I.  v.  46. 

Concluded,  decided;  III.  i.  141. 

Confineless,  boundless,  limit- 
less; IV.  iii.  55. 

Confounds,  destroys,  ruins;  II. 
ii.  II. 

Confronted,  met  face  to  face; 

I.  ii.  55- 
Confusion,  destruction ;   II.  iii. 

71. 

Consequences;    v.    mortal ;    V. 

iii.  5. 
Consent,  counsel,  proposal;  II. 

i.  25. 
Constancy,  firmness ;  II.  ii.  68. 
Contend   against,   vie   with;    I. 

vi.  16. 
Content,  satisfaction;  III.  ii.  5. 
Continent,  restraining;  IV.  iii. 

64. 

Convert,  change ;  IV.  iii.  229. 
Convey,     "  indulge     secretly  "  ; 

IV.  iii.  71. 
Convince,  overpower;  I.  vii.  64. 
Convinces,  overpowers;  IV.  iii. 

142. 
Copy,    (?)    copyhold,    non-per- 
manent tenure;  III.  ii.  38. 
Corporal,  corporeal;  I.  iii.  81. 
Corporal;  "  each  c.  agent,"  i.e. 

"  each  faculty  of  the  body  "  ; 

I.  vii.  80. 
Counsellors ;  "c.  to  fear,"  fear's 

counsellors.      i.e.      "  suggest 

fear  ";  V.  iii.  17. 
Countenance,    "be    in    keeping 

with  "  ;  II.  iii.  84. 


Crack  of  doom,  burst  of  sound, 
thunder  at  the  day  of  doom ; 

IV.  i.  117. 

Cracks,  charges ;  I.  ii.  ^7- 
Crozvn,  head;  IV.  i.  113. 

Dainty  of,  particular  about;  II. 

iii.  149. 
Dear,  deeply  felt ;  V.  ii.  3. 
Degrees,  degrees  of  rank;  III. 

iv.  I. 
Deliver  thee,  report  to  thee ;  I 

V.  II. 

Delivers,  communicates  to  us ; 

III.  iii.  2. 

Demi-zuolves,  a  cross  between 
dogs  and  wolves ;  III.  i.  94. 

Denies,  refuses;  III.  iv.  128. 

Detraction,  defamation;  "mine 
own  d.,"  the  evil  things  I 
have  spoken  against  myself; 

IV.  iii.  123. 

Devil     (monosyllabic) ;     I.    iii. 

107. 
Dew,  bedew ;  V.  ii.  30. 
Disjoint,  fall  to  pieces;  III.  ii. 

16. 
Displaced,    banished;     III.    iv. 

109. 
Dispute  it,  fight  against  it;  (?) 

reason    upon    it    (Schmidt)  ; 

IV.  iii.  220. 
Disseat,  unseat;  V.  iii.  21. 
Distance,  hostility;  III.  i.  116. 
Do^,  do  off,  put  off;  IV.  iii.  188. 
Doubt,  fear,  suspect ;  IV.  ii.  66. 
Drink;  "my  d.,"  i.e.  "my  pos- 
set" ;  II.  i.  31. 
Droii'se,   become   drowsy;    III. 

ii.  52. 
Dudgeon,  handle  01  a  dagger; 

IL  i.  46. 


J19 


Glossary 


THE  TRAGEDY  OF 


Dunnest,  darkest;  I.  v.  52. 

Earnest,  pledge,  money  paid 
beforehand;  I.  iii.  104. 

Easy,  easily;  II.  iii.  142. 

Ecstasy,  any  state  of  being  be- 
side one's  self,  violent  emo- 
tion;  III.  ii.  22. 

Effects,  acts,  actions;  V.  i.  11. 

Egg,  term  of  contempt ;  IV.  ii. 
82. 

Eminence,   distinction ;    III.   ii. 

31- 
England,  the  King  of  England; 

IV.  iii.  43- 
Enkindle,  incite;  I.  iii.  121. 
Enozv,  enough  ;  II.  iii.  7. 
Entrance     (trisyllabic)  ;    I.    v. 

40. 
Equivocate    to    heaven,   get   to 

heaven   by   equivocation ;    II. 

iii.  12. 
Equivocator  (probably  alluding 

to     Jesuitical     equivocation ;. 

Garnet,   the   superior   of  the 

order,    was    on    his    trial    in 

March,  1606)  ;  II.  iii.  10. 
Estate,  royal  dignity,  succession 

to  the  crown ;  I.  iv.  2)7 ■ 
Eternal  jewel,  immortal   soul ; 

III.  i.  68. 
Eterne,  perpetual ;  III.  ii.  38. 
Evil,  king's  evil,  scrofula ;  IV. 

iii.  146. 
Exasperate,    exasperated ;    III. 

vi.  38. 
Expectation,  those  guests  who 

are  expected;  III.  iii.  10. 
Expedition,  haste;  II.  iii.  115. 
Extend,  prolong;  III.  iv.  57. 

Fact,  act,  deed;  III.  vi.  10. 


Faculties,  powers,  preroga- 
tives; I.  vii.  17. 

Fain,  gladly;  V.  iii.  28. 

Fantastical,  imaginary;  I.  iii. 
53;  I.  iii.  139. 

Farrow,  litter  of  pigs ;  IV.  i. 
65. 

Favour,  pardon ;  I.  iii.  149. 

,    countenance,    face ;    I.   v. 

72>- 

Fears,  objects  of  fear;  I.  iii. 
137- 

Feed,  "  to  f.,"  feeding ;  III.  iv. 
35. 

Fee-grief,  "  grief  that  hath  a 
single  owner  "  ;  IV.  iii.  196. 

Fell,  scalp;  V.  v.  11. 

,  cruel,  dire ;  IV.  ii.  70. 

Fellow,  equal;  II.  iii.  67. 

File,  list ;  V.  ii.  8. 

,    "  the   valued    f.,"    list   of 

qualities ;  III.  i.  95. 

Filed,  made  foul,  defiled;  III. 
i.  65. 

First;  "at  f.  and  last,"  (?) 
once  for  all,  from  the  begin- 
ning to  the  end;  (Johnson 
conj.  "to  f.  and  next")  ;  III. 
iv.  I. 

Fits,  caprices;  IV.  ii.  17. 

Flaws,  storms  of  passion;  III. 
iv.  63. 

Flighty,  fleeting;  IV.  i.  14S. 

Flout,  mock,  defy ;  I.  ii.  49. 

Fly,  fly  from  me;  V.  iii.  i. 

Foisons,  plenty,  rich  harvests; 
IV.  iii.  88. 

Follows,  attends;  I.  vi.  11. 

For,  because  of;  III.  i.  121. 

,  as  for,  as  regards;  IV.  ii. 

15. 


120 


MACBETH 


Glossary 


Forbid,  cursed,  blasted;   I.  iii. 

21. 

Forced,  strengthened ;  V.  v.  5. 

Forge,  fabricate,  invent ;  IV. 
iii.  82. 

Forsworn,  perjured;  IV.  iii. 
126. 

Founded,  firmly  fixed;  III.  iv. 
22. 

Frame  of  things,  universe;  III. 
ii.  16. 

Franchised,  free,  unstained;  II. 
i.  28. 

Free,  freely;  I.  iii,  155. 

,  honourable;  III.  vi.  36. 

,   remove,  do  away    (Stee- 

vens  conj.  "Fright''  or 
"Fray";  Bailey  conj.,  adopt- 
ed by  Hudson,  "  Keep  " ; 
Kinnear  conj.  "Rid")',  III. 
vi.  35. 

French  hose,  probably  a  refer- 
ence to  the  narrow,  straight 
hose,  in  contradistinction  to 
the  round,  wide  hose ;  II.  iii. 
16. 

Fright,  frighten,  terrify;  IV.  ii. 
69. 

From,  differently  from ;  III.  i. 
100. 

,  in  consequence  of,  on  ac- 
count of;  III.  vi.  21. 

Fry,  literally  a  swarm  of  young 
fishes ;  here  used  as  a  term  of 
contempt ;  IV.  ii.  83. 

Function,  power  of  action ;  I. 
iii.  140. 

Furbish' d,  burnished ;  I.  ii.  32. 

Gallowglasses,  heavy-armed 
Irish  troops  (Folio  i,  "  Gal- 
lowgrosses")  ;  I.  ii.  13. 


Genius,  spirit  of  good  or  ill; 
III.  i.  56. 

Gentle  senses,  senses  which  are 
soothed  (by  the  "  gentle " 
air);  (Warburton,  "general 
sense";  Johnson  conj.,  adopt- 
ed by  Capell,  "gentle 
sense ")  ;  1.  vi.  3. 

Germins,  germs,  seeds ;  IV.  i. 
59- 

Get,  beget;  I.  iii.  67. 

Gin,  a  trap  to  catch  birds;  IV. 

"•  35. 
'Gins,  begins ;  I.  ii.  25. 
Gives   out,   proclaims ;    IV.   iii. 

192. 
God  'ild  us,  corruption  of  "God 

yield  us"  (Folios,  "God-eyld 

us  ")  ;  I.  vi.  13. 
Golgotha,  i.e.   "  the  place  of  a 

skull "  (cp.  Mark  xv.  22)  ;  I. 

ii.  40. 
Good,  brave ;  IV.  iii.  3. 
Goodness;  "  the  chance  of  g.," 

the  chance  of  success ;  IV.  iii. 

136. 
Goose,     a     tailor's     smoothing 

iron ;  II.  iii.  17. 
Gospell'd,  imbued  with  Gospel 

teaching;  III.  i.  88. 
Go  to,  go  to,  an  exclamation  of 

reproach ;  V.  i.  51. 
Gouts,  drops  ;  II.  i.  46. 
Graced,      gracious,       full      of 

graces ;  III.  iv.  41. 
Grandam,  grandmother;  III.  iv. 

66. 
Grave,  weighty ;  III.  i.  22. 
Graymalkin;   a   grey   cat    (the 

familiar    spirit    of   the    First 

Witch  ;  "  malkin  "  diminutive 

of  "  Mary  ")  ;  I.  i.  9. 


121 


Glossary 


THE  TRAGEDY  OF 


■  /  coiiie,  Graymalkin.    Paddock  calls.' 

From  a  print  by  "  Hellish  "  Breugel, 

c.  1566. 

Gripe,  grasp;  III.  i.  62. 
Grooms,  servants  of  any  kind ; 

II.  ii.  5. 
Gulf,  gullet;  IV.  i.  23. 

Hail  (dissyllabic)  ;  I.  ii.  5. 

Harbinger,  forerunner,  an  of- 
ficer of  the  king's  household ; 
I.  iv.  45- 

Hardly,  with  difficulty;  V.  iii. 
62. 

Harms,  injuries;  "my  h.,"  in- 
juries inflicted  by  me;  IV.  iii. 

55. 
Harp'd,  hit,  touched;  IV.  i.  74. 
Harpier,  probably  a  corruption 

of  Harpy;  IV.  i.  3. 
Having,  possessions ;  I.  iii.  56. 
Hear,  talk  with ;  III.  iv.  32. 
Heart;  "any  h.,"  the  heart  of 

any  man ;  III.  vi.  15. 


Heavily,  sadly;  IV.  iii.  182. 

Hecate,  the  goddess  of  hell 
(one  of  the  names  of  Ar- 
temis-Diana, as  goddess  of 
the  infernal  regions)  ;  II.  i. 
52. 

Hedge-pig,  hedge-hog ;  IV.  i.  2. 

Hermits,  beadsmen  ;  men  bound 
to  pray  for  their  benefactors 
(Folio  I,  "  Ermites")  ;  I.  vi. 
20. 

Hie  thee,  hasten ;  I.  v.  26. 

His,  this  man's ;  IV.  iii.  80. 

Holds,  withholds;  III.  vi.  25. 

Holp,  helped ;  I.  vi.  23. 

Home,  thoroughly,  completely ; 
I.  iii.  120. 

Homely,  humble;  IV.  ii.  67. 

Hoodzvink,  blind;  IV.  iii.  72. 

Horses  (monosyllabic)  ;  II.  iv. 
14. 

Housekeeper,  watch  dog;  III.  i. 
97- 

Howlet's,  owlet's;  IV.  i.  17. 

Hovi^  say' St  thou,  what  do  you 
think  ! ;  III.  iv.  128. 

Humane,  human;  III.  iv.  y6. 


From  an  old  woo^cqt. 


MACBETH 


Glossary 


Hurlyburly,  tumult,  uproar;  I. 
i.  3.  (In  the  annexed  cu- 
rious illustration  of  some 
witchcraft  absurdity  the  devil 
is  making  a  hurly-burly  by 
beating  furiously  on  a  drum 
under  which  is  a  Lapland 
witch.) 

Husbandry,  economy;  II.  i.  4. 

Hyrcan  tiger,  i.e.  tiger  of  Hyr- 
cania,  a  district  south  of  the 
Caspian;  III.  iv.  loi. 

Ignorant,  i.e.  of  future  events; 

I.  V.  58. 
Ill-composed,    compounded    of 

evil  qualities ;  IV.  iii.  77. 
Illness,  evil ;  I.  v.  21. 
Impress,  force  into  his  service ; 

IV.  i.  95. 
In,  under  the  weight  of;    IV. 

iii.  20. 
Incarnadine,  make  red;   II.  ii. 

62. 
Informs,  takes  visible  form ;  II. 

i.  48. 
Initiate;    "the    i.    fear,"    "the 

fear  that  attends,  i.e.  the  first 

initiation    (into  guilt)";   III. 

iv.  143. 
Insane;  "the  i.  root,"  the  root 

which  causes  insanity ;  I.  iii. 

84. 
Instant,  present  moment ;  I.  v. 

59- 

Interdiction,  exclusion ;  IV.  iii. 

107. 

Intermission,  delay  ;  IV.  iii.  232. 
Intrenchant,      indivisible;      V. 
viii.  9. 

lealousies,  suspicions ;  IV.  iii. 
29. 


Jump,  hazard,  risk;   I.  vii.   7.  ^ 
Just,  exactly ;  III.  iii.  4. 
Jutty,  jetty,  projection;  I.  vi.  6. 

Kerns,\ight-a.Tmtdlrish  troops ; 
I.  ii.  13.  (Cp.  the  subjoined 
mediaeval  representation.) 


From  the  Chapter  House  Liber  A,  in 
the  Public  Record  Office. 

Knowings,  knowledge,  experi- 
ences ;  II.  iv.  4. 

Knowledge;  "the  k.,"  what 
you  know  (Collier  MS.  and 
Walker  conj.  "  thy  k.")  ;  I.  ii. 
6. 

Lack,   want,   requirement ;    IV. 

iii.  237. 
Lack,  miss ;  III.  iv.  84. 
Lapp'd,  wrapped;  I.  ii.  54. 
Large,     liberal,     unrestrained; 

III.  iv.   II. 
Latch,  catch ;  IV.  iii.  195. 
Lated,  belated,  III.  iii.  6. 
Lave,  keep  clear  and  unsullied; 

III.  ii.  ZZ- 


123 


Glossary 


THE  TRAGEDY  Of 


Lavish,  unrestrained,  insolent ; 
I.  ii.  57. 

Lay,  did  lodge ;  II.  iii.  58. 

Lease  of  nature,  term  of  natu- 
ral life;  IV.  i.  99. 

Leave,  leave  off;  III.  ii.  35. 

Left  unattended,  forsaken,  de- 
serted; II.  ii.  69. 

Lesser,  less ;  V.  ii.  13. 

Lies;  "  swears  and  1.,"  i.e. 
"  swears  allegiance  and  com- 
mits perjury  "  (cp.  IV.  ii.  51 
for  the  literal  sense  of  the 
phrase)  ;  IV.  ii.  47. 

Lighted,  descended;  II.  iii.  147. 

Like,  same ;  II.  i.  30. 

,  likely;  II.  iv.  29. 

,  equal,  the  same ;  IV.  iii.  8. 

Lily-liver' d,  cowardly ;  V.  iii. 
15. 

Limbec,  alembic,  still ;  I.  vii.  67. 

Lime,  bird-lime ;  IV.  ii.  34. 

Limited,  appointed;  II.  iii.  57. 

Lirie,  strengthen;  I.  iii.  112. 

List,  lists,  place  marked  out  for 
a  combat ;  III.  i.  71, 

Listening,  listening  to;  II.  ii. 
28. 

Lo ;  "  lo  you,"  i.e.  look  you;  V. 
i.  22. 

Lodged,    laid,    thrown    down ; 

IV.  i.  55. 

Look,  expect ;  V.  iii.  26. 
Loon,  brute;  V.  iii.  11. 
Luxurious,  lustful ;  IV.  iii.  58. 

Maggot-pies,  magpies;   III.  iv. 

125. 
Mansionry,  abode ;  I.  vi.  5. 
Mark,  take  heed,   listen;    I.  ii. 

28. 
• ,  notice;  V.  i.  46. 


Marry,    a    corruption     of    the 

Virgin  Mary ;  a  slight  oath ; 

III.  vi.  4. 
Mated,  bewildered;  V.  i.  86. 
Maws,  stomachs  ;  III.  iv.  y^- 
May  I,  I  hope  I  may ;  III.  iv. 

42. 
Medicine,     "physician";      (?) 

physic ;  V.  ii.  27. 
Meek,  meekly ;  I.  vii.  17. 
Memorize,     make     memorable, 

make  famous ;  I.  ii.  40. 
Mere,  absolutely ;  IV,  iii.  89. 
,    utter,    absolute;    IV.    iii. 

152. 
Metaphysical,   supernatural ;    I. 

V.  30. 
Minion,   darling,    favourite ;    I. 

ii.  19;  II.  iv.  15. 
Minutely,     "  happening     every 

minute,  continual  " ;  V.  ii.  18. 
Missives,  messengers;  I.  v.  7. 
Mistrust ;   "  he   needs   not    our 

m.,"  i.e.  we  need  not  mistrust 

him;  III.  iii.  2. 
Mockery,     delusive     imitation ; 

III.  iv.  107. 
Modern,  ordinary;  IV.  iii.  170. 
Moe,  more ;  V.  iii.  35. 
Monstrous     (trisyllabic)  ;     III. 

V.  8. 
Mortal,  deadly,  murderous ;   I. 

V.  42. 
,     "  m.     murders,"     deadly 

wounds;  III.  iv.  81. 
,  "  m.  consequences,"  what 

befalls  man  in  the  course  of 

time;  V.  iii.  5. 
Mortality,   mortal   life ;    II.   iii. 

97- 

Mortified,  dead,  insensible;  V. 

ii.  5. 


1 


124 


MACBETH 


Glossary 


Mounch'd,  chewed  with  closed 

lips;  I.  iii.  5. 
Muse,  wonder;  III.  iv.  85. 
Must  be,  was  destined  to  be; 

IV.  iii.  212. 

Napkins,  handkerchiefs;  II.  iii. 

6. 
Nature ;    "  nature's    mischief," 

man's  evil  propensities;  I.  v. 

51. 
;    "in   n.,"   in  their  whole 

nature;  II.  iv.  16. 
Naught,  vile  thing;  IV.  iii.  225. 
Nave,  navel,  middle   (Warbur- 

ton,  "  nape  ")  ;  I.  ii.  22. 
Near,  nearer;  II.  iii.  146. 
Near'st    of    life,    inmost    life, 

most  vital  parts;  III.  i.  118. 
Nice,  precise,  minute ;   IV.   iii. 

174. 
Nightgown,  dressing  gown;  II. 

ii.  70. 
Noise,  music ;  IV.  i.  106. 
Norways',    Norwegians' ;    I.    ii. 

59- 
Norweyan,    Norwegian ;    I.    ii. 

31- 
Note,  notoriety:  III.  ii.  44. 

,  list;  III.  iii.  10. 

,  notice;  III.  iv.  56. 

Nothing,  not  at  all ;  I.  iii.  96. 

,  nobody;  IV.  iii.  166. 

Notion,  apprehension  ;  III.  i.  83. 

Oblivious,     causing     forgetful- 

ness ;  V.  iii.  43. 
Obscure;    "  o.    bird,"    i.e.    the 

bird   delighting  in   darkness, 

the  owl ;  II.  iii.  63. 
Odds;  "  at  o.,"  at  variance  ;  III. 

iv.  127. 


O'erfraught,  over-charged, 

over-loaded;  IV.  iii.  210. 

Of,  from;  IV.  i.  81. 

,  with  (Hanmer,  "  with  ")  ; 

I.  ii.  13. 

,  over,  I.  iii.  33. 

,  by;  III.  vi.  4;  III.  vi.  27. 

,  for;  IV.  iii.  95. 

Offices,  duty,  employment ;  III. 
iii.  3- 

,  i.e.  domestic  offices,  serv- 
ants' quarters ;  II.  i.  14. 

Old  (used  colloquially)  ;  II.  iii. 
2. 

On,  of;  I.  iii.  84. 

Once,  ever ;  IV.  iii.  167. 

One,  wholly,  uniformly;  II.  ii. 
63. 

On  's,  of  his ;  V.  i.  70. 

On't,  of  it;  III.  i.  114. 

Opened,  unfolded;  IV.  iii.  52. 

Or  ere,  before;  IV.  iii.  173. 

Other,  others ;  I.  iii.  14. 

,    "  the    o.,"    i.e.    the    other 

side ;  I.  vii.  28. 

,  otherwise ;  I.  vii.  yj. 

Other s,  other  man's ;  IV.  iii. 
80. 

Ourselves,  one  another;  III.  iv. 

Out,  i.e.   in  the   field;    IV.    iii. 

183. 
Outrun,  did  outrun    (Johnson, 

"  outran  ")  ;  II.  iii.  117. 
Overcome,  overshadow;  III.  iv. 

III. 
Over-red,  redden  over;  V.  iii. 

14- 
Owe,  own,  possess;  I.  iii.  76. 
Owed,  owned;  I.  iv.  10. 


125 


Glossary 


THE   TRAGEDY  OF 


Paddock,  toad  (the  familiar 
spirit  of  the  second  witch)  ; 
I.  i.  10. 

Pall,  wrap,  envelop ;  I.  v.  52. 

Passion,  strong  emotion;  III. 
iv.  57- 

Patch,  fool  (supposed  to  be  de- 
rived from  the  patched  or 
motley  coat  of  the  jester)  ; 
V.  iii.  15. 

Peak,  dwindle  away ;  I.  iii.  23. 

Pent-house  lid,  i.e.  eye-lids; 
"  Pent-house,"  a  porch  or 
shed  with  sloping  roof,  as 
shown  in  the  annexed  cut ;  I. 
iii.  20. 


From  an  engraving  of  an  old  timber- 
house  in  the  market  place  ;it  Strat. 
ford-on-Avon. 

Perfect,     well,     perfectly     ac- 
quainted; IV.  ii.  65. 
P ester' d,  troubled;  V.  ii.  23. 


Place,  "  pitch,  the  highest  ele- 
vation of  a  hawk " ;  a  term 
of  falconry;  II.  iv.  12. 

Point;  "at  a  p.,"  prepared  for 
any  emergency  ;  IV.  iii.  135. 

Poor,  feeble;  III.  ii.  14. 

Poorly,  dejectedly,  unworthily; 
II.  ii.  72. 

Portable,  endurable ;  IV.  iii.  89. 

Possess,  fill;  IV.  iii.  202. 

Possets,  drink ;  "  posset  is  hot 
milk  poured  on  ale  or  sack, 
having  sugar,  grated  bisket, 
and  eggs,  with  other  ingre- 
dients boiled  in  it,  which 
goes  all  to  a  curd"  (Randle 
Holmes'  Academy  of  Ar- 
moiirie,  1688)  ;  II.  ii.  6. 

Posters,  speedy  travellers ;  I. 
iii-  Z3- 

Power,  armed  force,  army ;  IV. 
iii.  185. 

Predominance,  superior  power, 
influence ;  an  astrological 
term ;  II.  iv.  8. 

Present,  present  time;  I.  v.  58. 

,  instant,  immediate;  I.  ii. 

64. 

,  offer;  III.  ii.  31. 

Presently,  immediately;  IV.  iii. 

145- 

Pretence,  purpose,  intention; 
II.  iii.  136. 

Pretend,  intend ;  II.  iv.  24. 

Probation;  "passed  in  p.  with 
you,"  proved,  passi'ng  them  in 
detail,  one  by  one ;  III.  i.  80. 

Profound,  "  having  deep  or 
hidden  qualities "  (John- 
son) ;  (?)  "deep,  and  there- 
fore ready  to  fall"  (Clar. 
Pr.)  ;  III.  v.  24. 


126 


i 


MACBETH 


Glossary 


Proof,  proved  armour ;  I.  ii.  54. 

Proper,  fine,  excellent  (used 
ironically)  ;  III.  iv.  60. 

Protest,  show  publicly,  pro- 
claim ;  V.  ii.  II. 

Purged,  cleansed;  III.  iv.  76. 

Purveyor,  an  officer  of  the  king 
sent  before  to  provide  food 
for  the  king  and  his  retinue, 
as  the  harbinger  provided 
lodging;   I.  vi.  22. 

Push,  attack,  onset;  V.  iii.  20. 

Put  on,  se  on,  (?)  set  to  work; 

IV.  iii.  239. 

Put  upon,  falsely  attribute;  I. 
vii.  70. 

Quarry,  a  heap  of  slaughtered 

game ;  IV.  iii.  206. 
Quell,  murder;  I.  vii.  72. 
Quiet ;    "  at    q.,"    in    quiet,    at 

peace ;  II.  iii.  18. 

RaveU'd,  tangled;  II.  ii.  2>7- 

Ravin' d,  ravenous;  IV.  i.  24. 

Ravin  up,  devour  greedily;  II. 
iv.  28. 

Rawness,  hurry;  IV.  iii.  26. 

Readiness ;  "  manly  r.."  com- 
plete clothing  (opposed  to 
"naked    frailties");    II.    iii. 

139- 

Receipt,  receptacle;  I.  vii.  66. 
Received,  believed;  I.  vii.  74. 
Recoil,  swerve;  IV.  iii.  19. 
Recoil;  "to  r.,"  for  recoiling; 

V.  ii.  23. 

Relation,  narrative;  IV.  iii.  173. 
Relations,   "the   connection    of 

effects  with  causes  "  ;  III.  iv. 

124. 
Relish,  smack;  IV.  iii.  95. 


Remembrance,  quadrisyllable ; 
III.  ii.  30. 

Remembrancer,  reminder;  III. 
iv.  2>7- 

Remorse,  pity;  I.  v.  45. 

Require,  ask  her  to  give;  III. 
iv.  6. 

Resolve  yourselves,  decide, 
make  up  your  minds ;  III.  i. 
138. 

Rest,  remain  ;  I.  vi.  20. 

,  give  rest ;  IV.  iii.  227. 

Return,  give  back,  render;  I. 
vi.  28. 

Ronyon,  a  term  of  contempt;  I. 
iii.  6. 

Roof'd,  gathered  under  one 
roof;  III.  iv.  40. 

Rooky,  gloomy,  foggy  (Jen- 
nens,  "  rocky  ")  ;  III.  ii.  51. 

Round,  circlet,  crown;  I.  v.  29. 

;  "  r.  and  top  of  sovereign- 
ty," i.e.  "  the  crown,  the  top 
or  summit  of  sovereign  pow- 
er "  ;  IV.  i.  87. 

,  dance  in  a  circle ;   IV.  i. 

130. 

Rubs,  hindrances,  impedi- 
ments ;  III.  i.  134. 

Rump-fed,  well-fed,  pampered; 
I.  iii.  6. 

Safe  tozvard,  with  a  sure  re- 
gard to;  I.  iv.  27. 

Sag,  droop,  sink ;  V.  iii.  10. 

Saint  Colme's  Inch,  the  island 
of  Columba,  now  Inchcolm, 
in  the  Firth  of  Forth;  I.  ii. 
61. 

Saucy,  insolent,  importunate ; 
(?)  pungent,  sharp,  gnawmg 
(Koppel)  ;  III.  iv.  25. 


127 


Glossary 


THE  TRAGEDY  OF 


Say  to,  tell ;  I.  ii.  6. 

'Scaped,  escape ;  III.  iv.  20. 

Scurf  up,  blindfold ;  III.  ii.  47. 

Scone,  the  ancient  coronation 
place  of  the  kings  of  Scot- 
land; II.  iv.  31. 

Scotch'd,  "  cut  with  shallow  in- 
cisions "  (Theobald's  emen- 
dation of  Folios,  "jcorc/i'rf")  ; 
III.  ii.  13. 

Season,  seasoning;  III.  iv.  141. 

Seat,  situation;  I.  vi.  i. 

Seated,  fixed  firmly;  I.  iii.  136. 

Security,  confidence,  conscious- 
ness of  security,  careless- 
ness ;  III.  V.  32. 

Seeling,  blinding  (originally  a 
term  of  falconry)  ;  III.  ii. 
46. 

Sccnis;  "  that  s.  to  speak  things 
strange,"  i.e.  "  whose  appear- 
ance corresponds  with  the 
strangeness  of  his  message  " 
(Clar.  Pr.)  ;  (Johnson  conj. 
"teems";  Collier  MS., 
"  comes,"  etc.)  ;  I.  ii.  47. 

Self-abuse,  self-delusion ;  III. 
iv.  142. 

Self-comparisons,  measuring 
himself  with  the  other;  I.  ii. 
55- 

Selfsame,  very  same ;  I.  iii.  88. 

Sennet,  a  set  of  notes  on  trum- 
pet or  cornet;  III.  i.  lo-ii. 

Sennights,  seven  nights, weeks ; 

I.  iii.  22. 

Sensible,  perceptible,   tangible; 

II.  i.  3^. 

Sergeant   (trisyllabic)  ;  I.  ii.  3. 
Set  forth,  shewed ;  I.  iv.  6. 
Settled,  determined;  I.  vii.  79. 


Sezver,  one  who  tasted  each 
dish  to  prove  there  was  no 
poison  in  it;  I.  vii.   (direc). 

Shag-ear  d,  having  hairy  ears 
(Steevens  conj.,  adopted  by 
Singer  (ed.  2)  and  Hudson, 
"  shag-hair' d")  ;  IV.  ii.  82. 

Shall,  will ;  II.  i.  29. 

,  I  shall ;  IV.  ii.  23. 

Shame,  am  ashamed;  II.  ii.  64. 

Shard-borne,  borne  by  scaly 
wing-cases,  (D  a  v  e  n  a  n  t, 
"  sharp-brow' d  " ;  Daniel 
conj.  "sham-bode";  Upton 
conj.  "  sham -born")  ;  III.  ii. 
42. 

Shift,  steal,  quietly  get;  II.  iii. 
150. 

Shipman's  card,  the  card  of  the 
compass ;  I.  iii.  17. 

S hough,  a  kind  of  shaggy  dog 
(Folios,  "  Shozvghes"  ;  Ca- 
pell,  "shocks")  ;  III.  i.  94. 

Should  be,  appear  to  be;  I.  iii. 

45. 

Show,  dumb-show;  IV.  i.  iii- 
112. 

Shozv,  appear;  I.  iii.  54. 

Shut  up,  enclosed,  enveloped; 
II.  i.  16. 

Sicken,  be  surfeited;  IV.  i.  60. 

Sightless,  invisible;  I.  vii.  23. 

Sights;  Collier  MS.  and  Singer 
MS.,  "flights";  Grant  White, 
"sprites  " ;  IV.  i.  155. 

Sinel,  Macbeth 's  father,  accord- 
ing to  Holinshed ;  I.  iii.  71. 

Single,  individual ;  I.  iii.  140. 

,  simple,  small ;  I.  vi.  16. 

Sirrah,  used  in  addressing  an 
inferior ;  here  used  playfully  ; 
IV.  ii.  30. 


128 


MACBETH 


Glossary 


Skirr,  scour;  V.  iii.  35. 

Slab,  thick,  glutinous ;  IV.  i.  32. 

Sleave,   sleave-silk,    floss    silk; 

II.  ii.  37- 

Sleek  o'er,  smooth;  III.  ii.  27. 
Sleights,  feats  of  dexterity  ;  III. 

V.  26. 
Slipp'd,  let  slip;  II.  iii.  51. 
Sliver  d,  slipped  off ;  IV.  i.  28. 
Smack,  have  the  taste,  savour; 

I.  ii.  44. 
So,  like  grace,  gracious ;  IV.  iii. 

24. 
So  zvell,  as  well ;  I.  ii.  43. 
Sole,  alone,  mere ;  IV.  iii.  12. 
Solemn,   ceremonious,    formal ; 

III.  i.  14. 

Soliciting,  inciting;  I.  iii.  130. 
Solicits,     entreats,     moves     by 

prayer;  IV.  iii.  149. 
Something,  some  distance;  III. 

i.  132. 
Sometime,  sometimes;  I.  vi.  11. 
Sorely,  heavily ;  V.  i.  59. 
Sorriest,  saddest;  III.  ii.  9. 


The  soul  leaving  the  body  at 
death 
10  I 


Sorry,  sad ;  II.  ii.  20. 

Soul's  flight;  III.  i.  141.  (The 
idea  and  its  expression  maj' 
be  illustrated  by  the  accom- 
panying cut  from  Douce's 
Illustrations  of  Shakespeare.) 

Speak,  bespeak,  proclaim ;  IV. 
iii.  159. 

Speculation,  intelligence ;  III. 
iv.  95. 

Speed;  "  had  the  s.  of  him," 
has  outstripped  him ;  I.  v.  36. 

Spongy,  imbibing  like  a  sponge  ; 
I.  vii.  71. 

Spring,  source ;  I.  ii.  27. 

Sprites,  spirits ;  IV.  i.   127. 

Spy,  V.  Note;  III.  i.  130. 

Stableness,  constancy;  IV.  iii. 
92. 

Staff,  lance ;  V.  iii.  48. 

Stamp,   stamped  coin ;   IV.   iii. 

153- 

Stanchless,  insatiable;  IV.  iii. 
78. 

Stand,  remain ;  III.  i.  4. 

Stand  not  upon,  do  not  be  par- 
ticular about;  III.  iv.  119. 

State,  chair  of  State;  III.  iv.  5. 

State  of  honour,  noble  rank, 
condition  ;  IV.  ii.  65. 

Stay,  wait  for;  IV.  iii.  142. 

Stays,  waits  ;  III.  v.  35. 

Sticking-place,  i.e.  "  the  place 
in  which  the  peg  of  a  stringed 
instrument  remains  fast ;  the 
proper  degree  of  tension  "  ; 
I.  vii.  60. 

Stir,  stirring,  moving;  I.  iii. 
144. 

Storehouse,  place  of  burial ;  II. 
iv.  34- 

Strange,  new ;  I.  iii.  145, 


129 


Glossary 


THE  TRAGEDY  OF 


Strange;  "  s.  and  self-abuse,"  i. 
e.  (?)  "my  abuse  of  others 
and  myself  "  ;  III.  iv.  142. 

Strangely-visited,,  afflicted  with 
strange  diseases;  IV.  iii.  150. 

Stuff'd,  crammed,  full  to  burst- 
ing; V.  44. 

Substances,  forms;  I.  v.  50. 

Sudden,  violent ;  IV.  iii.  59. 

Suffer,  perish;  III.  ii.  16. 

Suffering;  "  our  s.  country,"  i.e. 
our  country  suffering;  III. 
vi.  48. 

Suggestion,  temptation,  incite- 
ment ;  I.  iii.  134. 

Summer-seeming,  "  appearing 
like  summer ;  seeming  to  be 
the  effect  of  a  transitory  and 
short-lived  heat  of  the  blood" 
(Schmidt)  ;  (Warburton, 
"  summer-teeming  " ;  John- 
son, "  fume,  or  seething," 
etc.)  ;  IV.  iii.  86. 

Sundry,  various ;  IV.  iii.  48. 

Surcease,  cessation  ;  I.  vii.  4. 

Surveying,  noticing,  perceiv- 
ing; I.  ii.  31. 

Szvay  by,  am  directed  by ; .  V. 
iii.  9. 

Sivears,  swears  allegiance ;  IV. 
ii.  47. 

Taint,  be  infected;  V.  iii.  3. 

Taking-off,  murder,  death ;  I. 
vii.  20. 

Teems,  teems  with ;  IV.  iii.  176. 

Temperance,  moderation,  self- 
restraint  ;  IV.  iii.  92. 

Tending,  tendance,  attendance ; 
I.  V.  38. 


Tend  on,  wait  on ;  I.  v.  42. 

That,  so  that ;  I.  ii.  58. 

;  "to  th.,"  to  that  end,  for 

that  purpose ;  I.  ii.  10. 

Therewithal,  therewith;  III.  i. 
34- 

Thirst,  desire  to  drink;  III.  iv. 
91- 

Thought ;  "  upon  a  th.,"  in  as 
small  an  interval  as  one  can 
think  a  thought ;  III.  iv.  55. 

,  being  borne  in  mind;  III. 

i.  132. 

Thralls,  slaves,  bondmen;  III. 
vi.  13. 

Threat,  threaten ;  II.  i.  60. 

Till  that,  till ;  I.  ii.  54. 

Timely,  betimes,  early;  II.  iii. 
50. 

,  "to  gain  the  t.  inn,"  op- 
portune; III.  iii.  7. 

Titles,  possessions;  IV.  ii.  7. 

To,  in  addition  to;  I.  vi.  19. 

,  according  to;  III.  iii.  4. 

,  compared  to ;  III.  iv.  64. 

,  for,  as;  IV.  iii.  10. 

,    linked    with,     "  prisoner 

to";  III.  iv.25. 

Top,  overtop,  surpass ;  IV.  iii. 
57- 

Top-full,  full  to  the  top,  brim- 
ful ;  I.  V.  43. 

Touch,  affection,  feeling;  IV. 
ii.  9- 

Touch' d,  injured,  hurt;  IV.  iii. 
14. 

Tozvering,  turning  about,  soar- 
ing, flying  high  (a  term  of 
falconry)  ;  II.  iv.  12. 

Trace,  follow;  IV,  i.  153. 


130 


i 


MACBETH 


Glossary 


Trains,  artifices,  devices ;  IV. 
iii.  ii8. 

Trammel  up,  entangle  as  in  a 
net ;  I.  vii.  3. 

Transport,  convey;  IV.  iii.  181. 

Transpose,  change;  IV.  iii.  21. 

Treble  sceptres,  symbolical  of 
the  three  kingdoms — Eng- 
land. Scotland,  and  Ireland; 
IV.  i.  121. 

TriUcd,  made  trifling,  made  to 
sink  into  insignificance ;  11. 
iv.  4. 

Tugg'd;  "  t.  with  fortune," 
pulled  about  in  wrestling 
with  fortune;  III.  i.  112. 

Tzvo-fold  halls,  probably  refer- 
ring to  the  double  coronation 
of  James  at  Scone  and  West- 
minster (Clar.  Pr.)  ;  accord- 
ing to  others  the  reference  is 
to  the  union  of  the  two  isl- 
ands;  IV.  i.  121. 

Tyranny,    usurpation ;    IV.    iii. 

67. 
Tyrant,  usurper;  III.  vi.  22. 

Unfix,  make  to  stand  on  end ; 
I.  iii.  135- 

Unrough,  beardless;  V.  ii.  10. 

Unspeak,  recall,  withdraw;  IV. 
iii.  123. 

Untitled,  having  no  title  or 
claim;  IV.  iii.  104. 

Unto,  to;  I.  iii.  121. 

Upon,  to;  III.  vi.  30. 

Uproar,  "  stir  up  to  tumult " 
(Schmidt);  (Folios  i,  2. 
"  uprorc  "  ;  Kcightley,  "  Up- 
root") ;  IV.  iii.  99. 

Use,  experience;  III.  iv.  143. 


Using,  cherishing,  entertain- 
ing; III.  ii.  ID. 

Utterance;  "to  the  u.,"  i.e.  a 
outrance  =  to  the  uttermost ; 
III.  i.  72. 

Vantage,  opportunity;  I.  ii.  31. 
Verity,  truthfulness  ;  IV.  iii.  92. 
Visards,  masks;  III.  ii.  34. 
Voiich'd,    assured,    warranted ; 
III.  iv.  34.  - 

Want;  "cannot  w.,"  can  help; 

III.  vi.  8. 
Warranted,    justified;    IV.    iii. 

137- 
JVassail,  revelry;   I.  vii.  64. 
Watching,  waking;  V.  i.  12. 
Water-rug,   a   kind   of   poodle ; 

III.  i.  94. 
What,  who ;  IV.  iii.  49. 
What  is,  i.e.   what   is  the  time 

of;  III.  iv.  126. 
When  'tis,  i.e.  "  when  the  mat- 
ter is  effected  "  ;  II.  i.  25. 
Whether  (monosyllabic)  ;  1.  iii. 

III. 
Which,  who ;  V.  i.  66. 
While  then,  till  then;  III.  i.  4'- 
Whispers,  whispers  to;  IV.  iii. 

210. 
Wholesome,    healthy;    IV.    iii. 

105. 
Wind;  "  I'll  give  thee  a  wind  "  ; 

I.  iii.   II.     {Cp.  illustration.) 
With,  against;  IV.  iii.  90. 

,  by;  III.  i.  63. 

,  on  ;  IV.  ii.  32. 

Without,  outside;  III.  iv.  14. 
,  beyond;  III.  ii.  11,  12. 


131 


Glossary 


THE  TRAGEDY  OF 


Jf^ifiiess,    testimony,    evidence; 

II.  ii.  47. 
Worm,  small  serpent ;  III.  iv.  29. 
JVould,  should;  1.  vii.  34. 
Wrought,  agitated;  I.  iii.  149. 


Yazvuing  peal,  a  peal  which 
lulls  to  sleep;  III.  ii.  43. 

Yesty,  foaming;   IV.  i.  53. 

Yet,  in  spite  of  all,  notwith- 
standing; IV.  iii.  69. 


'  r II give  thee  a  ui)id''  (I.  iii.  11). 
From  a  print  by  "  Hellish "'  Breugel,  c.  1566. 


MACBETH 


Critical  Notes. 


BY   ISRAEL   GOLLANCZ. 

¥■ 

I.  i.  I.  Perhaps  we  should  follow  the  punctuation  of  the  Folio, 
and  place  a  note  of  interrogation  after  '  again.' 

I.  ii.  14.  'damned  quarrel';  Johnson's,  perhaps  unnecessary, 
emendation  of  Folios,  'damned  quarry'  (cp.  IV.  iii.  206);  but 
Holinshed  uses  '  quarrel  '  in  the  corresponding  passage. 

I.  ii.  20-21.  Many  emendations  and  interpretations  have  been 
advanced  for  this  passage;  Koppel's  explanation  {Shakespeare 
Studien,  1896)  is  as  follows  : — "  he  faced  the  slave,  who  never 
found  time  for  the  preliminary  formalities  of  a  duel,  i.e.  shaking 
hands  with  and  bidding  farewell  to  the  opponent  " ;  seemingly, 
however,  'zvhich'  should  have  'he'  (i.e.  Macbeth)  and  not 
'  slave  '  as  its  antecedent. 

I.  iii.  15.  'And  the  very  ports  they  blow';  Johnson  conj.  'va- 
rious' for  'very';  Pope  reads  'points'  for  'ports';  Clar.  Press 
edd.  '  orts ' ;  '  blow  '  =-- '  blow  upon.' 

I.  iii.  32.  *  weird ' ;  Folios,  '  zveyward '  (prob.  =  '  zveird  ')  ; 
Keightley,  '  zveyard.' 

I.  iii.  97-98.  'As  thick  as  hail  Came  post';  Rowe's  emendation; 
Folios  read  'As  thick  as  tale  Can  post.' 

1.  V.  24-26.  The  difficulty  of  these  lines  arises  from  the  repeated 
words  '  tliat  which  '  in  line  25,  and  some  editors  have  consequently 
placed  the  inverted  commas  after  'undone';  but  'that  which'  is 
probably  due  to  the  same  expression  in  the  previous  line,  and  we 
should  perhaps  read  'and  that's  zvhick'  or  'and  that's  zvhat.' 

I.  vi.  4,  'martlet ' ;  Rowe's  emendation  of  Folios,  '  Barlet.' 

I.  vi.  5.  '  loz-'cd  mansionry';  Theobald's  emendation  of  Folios, 
'  loved  mansonry' ;  Pope  (ed.  2),  '  loved  masonry.' 

I.  vi.  6.  ' jutty,  frieze';  Pope,  'jutting  frieze';  Staunton  conj. 
'  jutty,  nor  frieze'  etc. 

I.  vi.  9.  'most';  Rowe's  emendation  of  Folios,  'must';  Collier 
MS.,  '  much.' 

133 


Notes 


THE   TRAGEDY  OF 


I.  vii.  6.  '  slioaV ;  Theobald's  emendation  of  Folios  i,  2, 
'  schoolc' 

I.  vii.  45.  'Like  the  poor  cat  i'  the  adage';  'The  cat  would  eat 
fyshe,  and  would  not  wet  her  feete,'  Heywood's  Proverbs ;  the  low 
Latin  form  of  the  same  proverb  is : — 

""  Cattis  aniat  pisccs,  sed  non  vult  tingerc  plantas." 
I.  vii.  47.  '  do  more ' ;  Rowe's  emendation  of  Folios,  '  no  more.' 
I,  vii.  65-67.   {Cp.   the  position  as   'warder   of  the   brain'   as- 
signed to  zns  memorati   (va)    in  the  accompanying  reproduction 
of  a  mediaeval  phre^logical  chart. 

II.  i.  51.  'sleep';  Steevens  conj. 
'  sleeper;  but  no  emendation  is  nec- 
essary ;  the  pause  after  '  sleep '  is 
evidently  equivalent  to  a  syllable. 

II.  i.  55.  '  Tarquin's  ravishing 
strides ' ;  Pope's  emendation ;  Fo- 
lios,   '  Tarqiiins  ravishing  sides.' 


II. 


56. 


■e';     Pope's     conj. 


adopted     by     Capell ;     Folios     i,     2, 
'  sowre.' 

II.  i.  5;!^.  '  zvhich  way  they  walk ' ; 
Rowe's  emendation ;  Folios,  '  which 
they  may  walk.' 

II.  ii.  35-36.  There  are  no  inverted 
commas  in  the  Folios.  The  ar- 
rangement in  the  text  is  generally 
followed  (similarly,  11.  42-43). 

III.  i.  130.  '  you  zvith  the  perfect 
spy  0'  the  time';  Johnson  conj.  'you  with  a';  Tyrwhitt  conj. 
'you  with  the  perfect  spot,  the  time';  Beckett  conj.  'you  zvitJi 
the  perfectry  0'  the  time';  Grant  White,  from  Collier  MS.,  'you, 
zvith  a  perfect  spy,  0'  tJie  time  ' ;  Schmidt  interprets  "'  spy '  to  mean 
"  an  advanced  guard ;  that  time  which  will  precede  the  time  of 
the  deed,  and  indicate  that  it  is  at  hand  "  ;  according  to  others 
'  spy '  =  the  person  who  gives  the  information ;  the  simplest  ex- 
planation is.  perhaps,  '  the  exact  spying  out  of  the  time,'  i.e.  '  the 
moment  on  't,'  which  in  the  text  follows  in  apposition. 

III.  ii.  20.  '  our  peace ' ;  so  Folio  i ;  Folios  2,  3,  4,  '  our  place.' 
III.  ii,  52.  'night's  black  agents  to  their  preys  do  rouse.'     {Cp. 
the  accompanying  illustration.) 

134 


J 


MACBETH 


Notes 


From  Pynson's  edition  of  the  Shepherd's  Kalcndar. 


III.  iv.  14.  ' 'Txs  better  thee  zvithout  than  he  within';  probably 
'  Jie '  instead  of  '  him '  for  the  sake  of  effective  antithesis  with 
'  thee ' ;  unless,  as  is  possible,  '  he  within  =  '  he  in  this  room.' 

III.  iv.  78.  'time  has';  Folio  i,  'times  has';  Folios  2,  3,  4, 
'  times  have ' ;  the  reading  of  the  First  Folio  is  probably  what 
Shakespeare  intended. 

III.  iv.  105-106.  'If  trembling  I  inhabit  tJicn  ' ;  various  emenda- 
tions have  been  proposed,  e.g.  'I  inhibit/  =z'  vie  inhibit,'  'I  in- 
hibit thee,'  '  I  inherit,'  etc. ;  probably  the  text  is  correct,  and  the 
words  mean  '  If  I  then  put  on  the  habit  of  trembling,'  i.e.  *  if  I 
invest  myself  in  trembling'  {cp.  Koppel,  p.  76). 

III.  iv.  122.  The  Folios  read: — 

"It  will  have  blood  they  say; 
Blood  will  have  blood." 

III.  iv.  144.  '  in  deed ' ;  Theobald's  emendation  of  Folios,  '  in- 
deed ' ;  Hanmer,  '  in  deeds' 

III.  V.  13.  'Loves';  Halliwell  conj.  'Lives';  Staunton  conj. 
'  Loves  evil.' 

III.  vi.  27.  '  the  most  pious  Edzvard,'  i.e.  Edward  the  Confessor. 

IV.  i.  97.  'Rebellion's  head' ;  Theobald's  conj.,  adopted  by  Han- 
mer; Folios  read  'Rebellious  dead';  Warburton's  conj.,  adopted 
by  Theobald,  '  Rebellious  head.' 

IV.  ii.  18.  'when  we  are  traitors  And  do  not  knozv  ourselves/ 
i.e.  when  we  are  accounted  traitors,  and  do  not  know  that  we  are, 
having  no  consciousness  of  guilt.  Hanmer,  '  knoiv  't  0.' ;  Keight- 
ley,  '  know  it  ourselves ' ;  but  no  change  seems  necessary. 

IV.  ii.  19-20,  'when  we  hold  rumour,'  etc.;  i.e.  'when  we  inter- 

135 


Notes  THE  TRAGEDY  OF 

pret  rumour  in  accordance  with  our  fear,  yet  know  not  exactly 
what  it  is  we  fear.' 

IV.  ii.  22.  '  EacJi  zi'ay  and  move'',  Theobald  conj.  'Each  ivay 
and  wave';  Capell,  'And  move  each  way'',  Steevens  conj.  'And 
each  way  move'',  Johnson  conj.  'Each  way,  and  move — ';  Jack- 
son conj.  'Each  zvail  and  moan';  Ingleby  conj.  '  Which  zvay  we 
move';  Anon.  conj.  'And  move  each  zvave';  Staunton  conj. 
'Each  szvay  and  move';  Daniel  conj.  'Each  zvay  it  moves'; 
Camb.  edd.  conj.  'Each  way  and  none';  perhaps  'Each  zvay  zve 
move '  is  the  simplest  reading  of  the  words. 

IV.  ii.  70.  '  do  worse,'  i.e.  "  let  her  and  her  children  be  de- 
stroyed without  warning"  (Johnson);  (Hanmer,  'do  less'; 
Capell,  '  do  less'). 

IV.    iii.    15.  '  deserve ' ;    Warburton's    emendation,    adopted    by 

Theobald ;  Folios  i,  2,  '  discerne  ' ;  Folios  3.  4.  '  discern  ' ;  , 

'  and  zi'isdom  ' ;  there  is  some  corruption  of  text'  here,  probably  a 
line  has  dropped  out.  Hanmer  reads  '  'tis  zvisdom ' ;  Steevens 
conj.  'and  wisdom  is  it'  \  Collier  conj.  'and  'tis  zvisdom' ;  Staun- 
ton conj.  'and  zvisdom  'tis'  or  '  a)id  zvisdoni  bids';  Keightley, 
'and  zvisdom  'twere.' 

IV.  iii.  III.  'Died  every  day  she  lived';  "lived  a  life  of  daily 
mortification"  (Delius). 

IV.  iii.  235.  '  tune  ' ;  Rowe's  emendation  of  Folios,  '  time.' 

V.  i.  26.  'sense  is  shut';  Rowe's  emendation  of  Folios,  'sense 
are  shut';  S.  Walker  conj.,  adopted  by  Dyce.  'sense'  are  shut.' 
The  reading  of  the  Folio  probably  gives  the  right  reading,  '  sense  ' 
being  taken  as  a  plural. 

V.  iii.  I.    '  them,'  i.e.  the  thanes. 

V.    iii.    21.  'cheer';    Percy    conj.,    adopted    by    Dyce,    'chair': 

;  "  dis-seat,'  Jennens  and  Capell  conj.,  adopted  by  Steevens; 

Folio  I,  '  dis-cate' ;  Folios  2,  3,  4,  'disease';  Bailey  conj.  'dis- 
seise'; Daniel  conj.  'defeat';  Furness,  '  dis-easc';  Perring  conj. 
'  dish e art.' 

V.  iii.  22.  'zvay  of  life';  Johnson  proposed  the  unnecessary 
emendation  'May  of  life,'  and  several  editors  have  accepted  the 
conjecture. 

V.  iii.  44.  '  stuff' d  ' ;  Folios  2,  3,  4,  '  stuft ' ;  Pope,  '  full ' ; 
Steevens  conj.,  adopted  by  Hunter,  'foul';  Anon.  conj.  'fraught,' 

'press'd';    Bailey   conj.    'stain'd';    Mull    conj.    'stccp'd';    ; 

'stuff' ;  so  Folios  3,  4;  Jackson  conj.  '  tuft' ;  Collier  (ed.  2),  from 

136 


MACBETH 


Notes 


Collier  MS.,  'grief;  Keightley,  'matter':  Anon.  conj.  'slough,' 
'freight';  Kinnear    conj.  'fraught.' 

V.  iii.  55.  'senna';  so  Folio  4;  Folio  i,  'Cyme';  Folios  2.  3, 
'  Caeny  ' ;  Bulloch  conj.  '  sirrah.' 

V.  iii.  58.  '  it'  i.e.  the  armour. 

V.  V.  19.  '  To-morrozL',  and  to-morrow,  and  to-morrow.'  "  Pos- 
sibly Shakespeare  recollected  a  remarkable  engraving  in  Barclay's 
Ship  of  Fooles,  1570,  copied  from  that  in  the  older  Latin  version 
of  1498,"  and  here  reproduced. 


137 


THE  TRAGEDY  OF 


Explanatory  Notes. 


The  Explanatory  Notes  in  this  edition  have  been  specially  selected  and 
adapted,  with  emendations  after  the  latest  and  best  authorities,  from  the 
most  eminent  Shakespearian  scholars  and  commentators,  including  Johnson, 
Malone,  Steevens,  Singer,  Dyce,  Hudson,  White,  Furness,  Dowden,  and 
others.  This  method,  here  introduced  for  the  first  time,  provides  the  best 
annotation  of  Shakespeare  ever  embraced  in  a  single  edition. 


ACT  FIRST. 
Scene  I. 

3.  Hurlyhurly : — The  origin  and  sense  of  this  word  are  thus 
given  by  Peacham  in  his  Garden  of  Eloquence,  1577 :  "  Onoma- 
topeia,  when  we  invent,  devise,  fayne,  and  make  a  name  imitating 
the  sound  of  that  it  signifyeth.  as  Jiurlybwly,  for  an  uprore  and 
tumiiltiioiis  stirrc."  Thus  also  in  Holinshed :  "There  were  such 
Jiurlie  hiirlics  kept  in  every  place,  to  the  great  danger  of  over- 
throwing the  whole  state  of  all  government  in  this  land."  Of 
course  the  word  here  refers  to  the  tumult  of  battle,  not  to  the 
storm,  the  latter  being  their  element. — The  reason  of  this  scene 
is  thus  stated  by  Coleridge:  "In  Macbeth  the  Poet's  object  was 
to  raise  the  m.ind  at  once  to  the  high  tragic  tone,  that  the  audience 
might  be  ready  for  the  precipitate  consummation  of  guilt  in  the 
early  part  of  the  play.  The  true  reason  for  the  first  appearance 
of  the  Witches  is  to  strike  the  keynote  of  the  character  of  the 
whole  drama,  as  is  proved  by  their  reappearance  in  the  third 
scene,  after  such  an  order  of  the  king's  as  establishes  their  super- 
natural >power  of  information." 

II.  "The  Weird  Sisters,"  says  Coleridge,  "are  as  true  a  crea- 
tion of  Shakespeare's  as  his  Ariel  and  Caliban — fates,  furies,  and 
materializing  witches  being  the  elements.  They  are  wholly  dit- 
ferent  from  any  representation  of  witches  in  the  contemporary 
writers,  and  yet  presented  a  sufficient  external  resemblance  to  the 
creatures  of  vulgar  prejudice  to  act  immediately  on  the  audience. 

138 


MACBEltH  Note3 

Their  character  consists  in  the  imaginative  disconnected  from  the 
good ;  they  are  the  shadowy  obscure  and  fearfully  anomalous  of 
physical  nature,  the  lawless  of  human  nature — elemental  avengers 
without  sex  or  kin."  Elsewhere  he  speaks  of  the  "  direful  music, 
the  wild  wayward  rhythm,  and  abrupt  lyrics  of  the  opening  of 
Macbeth."  Words  scarcely  less  true  to  the  Poet's,  than  the  Poet's 
are  to  the  characters. 

Scene  II. 

3.  Sergeants,  in  ancient  times,  were  not  the  petty  officers  now 
distinguished  by  that  title ;  but  men  performing  one  kind  of  feudal 
military  service,  in  rank  next  to  esquires.  In  the  stage  direction 
of  the  original  this  sergeant  is  called  a  captain. 

13.  Of  here  bears  the  sense  of  ivitJi,  the  two  words  often  being 
used  indiscriminately. — Thus  in  Holinshed :  "  Out  of  Ireland  in 
hope  of  the  spoile  came  no  small  number  of  Kernes  and  Gallo- 
glasses,  offering  gladlie  to  serve  under  him,  whither  it  should 
please  him  to  lead  them."  Barnabe  Rich  thus  describes  them  in 
his  New  Irish  Prognostication  :  "  The  Galloglas  succeedeth  the 
Plorseman,  and  he  is  commonly  armed  with  a  scull,  a  shirt  of 
maile,  and  a  Galloglas-axe.  The  Kernes  of  Ireland  are  next  in 
request,  the  very  drosse  and  scum  of  the  countrey,  a  generation  of 
villaines  not  v/orthy  to  live.  These  are  they  that  are  ready  to 
run  out  with  every  rebel,  and  these  are  the  very  hags  of  hell,  fit 
for  nothing  but  the  gallows." 

14,  15.  That  is,  seemed  as  in  love  with  him,  in  order  to  betray 
him  to  ruin. 

40.  To  memorize  is  to  make  memorable.  "  The  style,"  says 
Coleridge,  "  and  rhythm  of  the  Captain's  speeches  in  the  second 
scene  should  be  illustrated  by  reference  to  the  interlude  in  Ham- 
let, in  which  the  epic  is  substituted  for  the  tragic,  in  order  to  make 
the  latter  be  felt  as  the  real  life  diction." 

54.  Steevens  laughs  over  the  Poet's  ignorance  in  making  Bel- 
lona,  the  Roman  goddess  of  war,  the  wife  of  Mars.  But  Shake- 
speare makes  Macbeth  the  husband  of  Bellona. — Lapp'd  in  proof 
is  covered  with  "  armour  of  proof,"  that  is,  armour  impenetrable 
to  ordinary  weapons. 

61.  Colme's  is  here  a  dissyllable.  Colines  Inch,  now  called 
Inchcolm,  is  a  small  island,  lying  in  the  Firth  of  Edinburgh,  with 
an  abbey  upon  it  dedicated  to  St.  Columbia.  Inch  or  inse,  in  Erse, 
signifies  an  island. 

139 


Notes  THE  TRAGEDY  OF 

Scene  III. 

6.  Ronyon  is  a  scurvy  person  or  a  mangy  animal.  Rump-fed 
means  fed  on  refuse,  or  fattened  in  the  rump.  Another  meaning 
is  that  [Glossary]  of  pampered  or  richly  fed. 

8,  9.  Scott,  in  his  Discovery  of  Witchcraft,  1584,  says  it  was  be- 
lieved that  witches  "  could  sail  in  an  egg-shell,  a  cockle  or  muscle- 
shell  through  and  under  the  tempestuous  seas  " ;  and  in  the  Life 
of  Doctor  Fian,  a  Notable  Sorcerer:  "All  they  together  went  to 
sea,  each  one  in  a  riddle  or  cive,  and  went  in  the  same  very  sub- 
stantially, with  flagons  of  wine  making  merrie,  and  drinking  by 
the  way  in  the  same  riddles  or  cives."  It  was  the  belief  of  the 
times  that,  though  a  witch  could  assume  the  form  of  any  animal 
she  pleased,  the  tail  would  still  be  wanting. 

10.  /  'II  do  means,  "  in  the  shape  of  a  rat,  I'll  gnaw  through  the 
ship's  hull." 

11.  This  free  gift  of  a  wind  is  to  be  considered  as  an  act  of 
sisterly  friendship ;  for  witches  were  supposed  to  have  power  to 
sell  winds.    So  in  Summer's  Last  Will  and  Testament,  1600: — 

"  In  Ireland  and  in  Denmark  both 
Witches  for  gold  will  sell  a  man  a  wind. 
Which,  in  the  corner  of  a  napkin  wrapp'd, 
Shall  blow  him  safe  unto  what  coast  he  will." 

21.  That  is,  under  a  curse  or  ban. 

23.  This  effect  of  peaking  or  wasting  was  supposed  to  be  caused 
by  means  of  a  waxen  figure.  Holinshed,  speaking  of  the  witch- 
craft practised  to  destroy  King  Duff,  says  that  one  of  the  witches 
was  found  roasting,  upon  a  wooden  broach,  an  image  of  wax  at 
the  fire,  resembling  in  each  feature  the  king's  person ;  and  "  as 
the  image  did  waste  afore  the  fire,  so  did  the  bodie  of  the  king 
break  forth  in  sweat :  and  as  for  the  words  of  the  inchantment, 
they  served  to  keepe  him  still  waking  from  sleepe." 

25.  In  the  Life  of  Dr.  Fian,  already  quoted :  "  Againe  it  is  con- 
fessed, that  the  said  christened  cat  was  the  cause  of  the  Kinge's 
majestie's  shippe,  at  his  coming  forth  of  Denmarke,  had  a  con- 
trarie  winde  to  the  rest  of  his  shippes  then  being  in  his  companie." 

32.  Weird  is  from  the  Saxon  wyrd,  and  means  the  same  as  the 
Latin  fatum;  so  that  weird  sisters  is  the  fatal  sisters,  or  the  sis- 
ters of  fate.  Gawin  Douglas,  in  his  translation  of  Virgil,  renders 
ParccE  by  weird  sisters.  Which  agrees  well  with  Holinshed  in 
the  passage  which  the  Poet  no  doubt  had  in  his  eye :  "  The  com- 

140 


i 


MACBETH  Notes 

mon  opinion  was,  that  these  women  were  either  the  weird  sisters, 
that  is  (as  ye  would  say),  the  goddesses  of  destinie,  or  else  some 
nymphs  or  feiries,  indued  with  knowledge  of  prophesie  by  their 
necromanticall  science,  bicause  everie  thing  came  to  passe  as  they 
had  spoken." 

53.  That  is,  creatures  of  fantasy  or  imagination. 

71.  According  to  Holinshed,  "  Sinell,  the  thane  of  Glammis, 
was  Macbeth's  father." 

84.  Henbane  or  hemlock.  Thus  Batman's  Commentary  on  Bar- 
tholome  de  Proprietate  Rerum:  "Henbane  is  called  insana,  mad, 
for  the  use  thereof  is  perillous ;  for  if  it  be  eate  or  dronke  it 
breedeth  madnesse,  or  slow  lykenesse  of  sleepe.  Therefore  this 
hearb  is  called  commonly  mirilidium,  for  it  taketh  away  wit  and 
reason."  And  in  Greene's  Never  too  Late :  "  You  have  gazed 
against  the  sun,  and  so  blemished  your  sight,  or  else  you  have 
eaten  of  the  roots  of  hemlock,  that  makes  men's  eyes  conceit  un- 
seen objects." 

137.  Fears  here  is  put  for  the  objects  of  fear,  the  effect  for  the 
cause ;  a  not  uncommon  form  of  speech. 

140,  Single  here  bears  the  sense  of  weak,  feeble.  So  in  The 
Tempest,  "  A  single  thing,  as  I  am  now."  And  in  what  the  Chief 
Justice  says  to  Falstaff:  "Is  not  your  chin  double,  your  wit 
single  ?  " 

142.  That  is,  facts  are  lost  sight  of.  Macbeth  sees  nothing  but 
what  is  unreal,  nothing  but  the  spectres  of  his  own  fancy.  So- 
likewise,  in  the  preceding  clause :  the  mind  is  crippled,  disabled 
for  its  proper  function  or  office  by  the  apprehensions  and  surmises 
that  throng  upon  him.  Macbeth's  conscience  here  acts  through 
his  imagination,  sets  it  all  on  fire,  and  he  is  terror-stricken  and 
lost  to  the  things  before  him,  as  the  elements  of  evil,  hitherto 
latent  within  him,  gather  and  fashion  themselves  into  the  wicked 
purpose.  His  mind  has  all  along  been  grasping  and  reaching  for- 
ward for  grounds  to  build  criminal  designs  upon  ;  yet  he  no  sooner 
begins  to  build  them  than  he  is  seized  and  shaken  with  horrors 
which  he  knows  to  be  imaginary,  yet  cannot  allay.  Of  this  won- 
derful development  of  character  Coleridge  justly  says:  "So 
surely  is  the  guilt  in  its  germ  anterior  to  the  supposed  cause  and 
immediate  temptation."  And  again  :  "  Every  word  of  his  soliloquy 
shows  the  early  birthdate  of  his  guilt.  .  .  .  He  wishes  the 
end,  but  is  irresolute  as  to  the  means;  conscience  distinctly  warns 
him,  and  he  lulls  it  imperfectly."  How  greedily  the  swelling  evil 
of  his  conception  has  kept  snatching  at  and  sucking  in,  one  after 

141 


Notes  THE  TRAGEDY  OF 

another,  the  offerings  of  occasion  !  thus  proving  indeed  that  the 
elements  of  crime  were  all  in  him  before;  yet  his  being  surprised 
with  such  an  ecstasy  of  terror  equally  proves  that  the  guilty  pur- 
pose is  new  to  him,  that  his  thoughts  are  unused  to  it. 


Scene  IV. 

9.  That  is,  well  instructed  in  the  art  of  dying.  The  behaviour 
of  the  thane  of  Cawdor  corresponds  in  almost  every  circumstance 
with  that  of  the  unfortunate  earl  of  Essex,  as  related  by  Stowe. 
His  asking  the  queen's  forgiveness,  his  confession,  repentance,  and 
concern  about  behaving  with  propriety  on  the  scaffold,  are  mi- 
nutely described  by  that  historian. 

22-27.  "Here,  in  contrast  with  Duncan's  'plenteous  joys/  Mac- 
beth has  nothing  but  the  commonplaces  of  loyalty,  in  which  he 
hides  himself  with  '  our  duties.'  Note  the  exceeding  effort  of 
Macbeth's  addresses  to  the  king,  his  reasoning  on  his  allegiance, 
and  then  especially  when  a  new  difficulty,  the  designation  of  a 
successor,  suggests  a  new  crime."  Such  is  Coleridge's  comment 
on  the  text. 

39.  Holinshed  says,  "  Duncan,  having  two  sons,  made  the  elder 
of  them,  called  Malcolm,  prince  of  Cumberland,  as  it  was  thereby 
to  appoint  him  his  successor  in  his  kingdome  immediatelie  after 
his  decease.  Macbeth  sorely  troubled  herewith,  for  that  he  saw 
by  this  means  his  hope  sore  hindered,  (Avhere,  by  the  old  laws  of 
the  realme  the  ordinance  was,  that  if  he  that  should  succeed  were 
not  of  able  age  to  take  the  charge  upon  himself,  he  that  was  next 
of  blood  unto  him  should  be  admitted.)  he  began  to  take  counsel 
how  he  might  usurpe  the  kingdome  by  force,  having  a  just  quarrel 
so  to  doe,  (as  he  tooke  the  matter,)  for  that  Duncane  did  what  in 
him  lay  to  defraud  him  of  "all  manner  of  title  and  claime,  which 
he  might  in  time  to  come  pretend,  unto  the  crowne."  Cumberland 
was  then  held  in  fief  of  the  English  crown. 

54.  Of  course  during  Macbeth's  last  speech  Duncan  and  Banquo 
were  conversing  apart,  he  being  the  subject  of  their  talk.  The  be- 
ginning of  Duncan's  speech  refers  to  something  Banquo  has  said 
in  praise  of  Macbeth.  Coleridge  says — "  I  always  think  there  is 
something  especially  Shakespearian  in  Duncan's  speeches  through- 
out this  scene,  such  pourings-forth,  such  abandonments,  compared 
with  the  language  of  vulgar  dramatists,  whose  characters  seem  to 
have  made  their  speeches  as  the  actors  learn  them." 

142 


MACBETH  Notes 

Scene  V. 

26.  "  Macbeth,"  says  Coleridge,  "  is  described  by  Lady  Macbeth 
so  as  at  the  same  time  to  reveal  her  own  character.  Could  he 
have  everything  he  wanted,  he  would  rather  have  it  innocently ; 
— ignorant,  as  alas !  how  many  of  us  are,  that  he  who  wishes  a 
temporal  end  for  itself  does  in  truth  will  the  means ;  and  hence 
the  danger  of  indulging  fancies." 

30,  31.  That  is,  supernatural  aid.  We  find  metaphysics  ex- 
plained tilings  supernatural  in  the  old  dictionaries.  To  have  thee 
crown' d  is  to  desire  that  you  should  be  crowned.  Thus  in  All's 
Well  that  Ends  Well,  I.  ii. :  "Our  dearest  friend  prejudicates  the 
business  and  would  seem  to  have  us  make  denial." 

41,  This  passage  is  often  sadly  marred  in  the  reading  by  laying 
peculiar  stress  upon  my;  as  the  next  sentence  also  is  in  the  print- 
ing by  repeating  come,  thus  suppressing  the  pause  wherein  the 
speaker  gathers  and  nerves  herself  up  to  the  terrible  strain  that 
follows. 

42.  Mortal  and  deadly  were  synonymous  in  Shakespeare's  time. 
In  another  part  of  this  play  we  have  "  the  mortal  sword."  and 
"  mortal  murders."  The  spirits  here  addressed  are  thus  described 
in  Nashe's  Pierce  Penniless :  "  The  second  kind  of  devils,  which 
he  most  employeth,  are  those  northern  Martii,  called  the  spirits  of 
revenge,  and  the  authors  of  massacres,  and  seedsmen  of  mischief, 
for  they  have  commission  to  incense  men  to  rapines,  sacrilege, 
theft,  murder,  wrath,  fury,  and  all  manner  of  cruelties :  and  they 
command  certain  t)f  the  southern  spirits  to  wait  upon  them,  as 
also  great  Arioch,  that  is  termed  the  spirit  of  revenge." 

54.  A  similar  expression  occurs  in  Drayton's  Mortimeriados, 
1596:  "The  sullen  night  in  mistie  rugge  is  wrapp'd." 


Scene  VI. 

10.  "The  subject  of  this  quiet  conversation,"  says  Sir  J.  Reyn- 
olds, "  gives  repose  to  the  mind  after  the  tumultuous  bustle  of  thr 
preceding  scenes,  and  perfectly  contrasts  the  scene  of  horror  thai 
immediately  succeeds.  It  seems  as  if  Shakespeare  asked  himself. 
What  is  a  prince  likely  to  say  to  his  attendants  on  such  an  occa- 
sion? Whereas  the  modern  writers  seem,  on  the  contrary,  to  be 
always  searching  for  new  thoughts,  such  as  would  never  occur 
to  men  in  the  situation  which  is  represented.     This  also  is  fre- 

143 


Notes  THE  TRAGEDY  OF 

quently  the  practice  of  Homer,  who,  from  the  midst  of  battles  and 
horrors,  relieves  and  refreshes  the  mind  of  the  reader,  by  intro- 
ducing some  quiet  rural  image  or  picture  of  familiar  domestic 
life." 

13.  To  bid  is  here  used  in  the  Saxon  sense  of  to  pray.  God 
yield  us,  is  God  reward  us.  Malone  and  Steevens  were  perplexed 
by  what  they  call  the  obscurity  of  this  passage.  If  this  be  obscure, 
we  should  like  to  know  what  isn't.  Is  anything  more  common 
than  to  thank  people  for  annoying  us,  as  knowing  that  they  do 
it  from  love?  And  does  not  Duncan  clearly  mean,  that  his  love 
is  what  puts  him  upon  troubling  them  thus,  and  therefore  they 
will  be  grateful  to  him  for  the  pains  he  causes  them  to  take? 

20.  That  is,  "We  remain  as  hermits  or  beadsmen  to  pray  for 
you." — Here  again  we  quote  from  Coleridge:  "The  lyrical  move- 
ment with  which  this  scene  opens,  and  the  free  and  unengaged 
mind  of  Banquo,  loving  nature,  and  rewarded  in  the  love  itself, 
form  a  highly  dramatic  contrast  with  the  laboured  rhythm  and 
hypocritical  over-much  of  Lady  Macbeth's  welcome,  in  which  you 
cannot  detect  a  ray  of  personal  feeling,  but  all  is  thrown  upon  the 
'  dignities,'  the  general  duty." 


Scene  VIL 

4.  Surcease  is  end,  stop.  Thus  in  Bacon's  essay  Of  Church 
Control  ersies:  "  It  is  more  than  time  that  there  were  an  end  and 
surcease  made  of  this  immodest  and  deformed  manner  of  writing 
lately  entertained,  whereby  matter  of  religion  is  handled  in  the 
style  of  the  stage." — His  for  its,  referring  to  assassination. 

7.  "  We'd  jump  the  life  to  come''  that  is,  we'd  risk  it.  So  in 
Antony  and  Cleopatra,  III.  viii. :  "Our  fortune  lies  upon  this 
jump." 

23.  The  sightless  couriers  of  the  air  are  what  the  Poet  else- 
where calls  the  vieidess  winds. 

27.  The  using  of  self  for  aim  or  purpose  is  quite  lawful  and 
idiomatic;  as  we  often  say  such  a  one  overshot  himself,  that  is, 
overshot  his  mark  or  aim. 

47  et  seq.  It  is  said  that  Mrs.  Siddons,  in  her  personation  of 
Lady  Macbeth,  used  to  utter  the  horrible  words  of  this  speech  in 
a  scream,  as  though  she  were  almost  frightened  out  of  her  wits 
by  the  audacity  of  her  own  tongue.  And  we  can  easily  conceive 
how  a  spasmodic  action  of  fear  might  lend  her  the  appearance  of 

144 


MACBETH  Notes 

superhuman  or  inhuman  boldness.  At  all  events,  it  should  be  ob- 
served that  Lady  Macbeth's  energy  and  intensity  of  purpose 
overbears  the  feelings  of  the  woman,  and  that  some  of  her  words 
are  spoken  more  as  suiting  the  former,  than  as  springing  from  the 
latter.  And  her  convulsive  struggle  of  feeling  against  that  over- 
bearing violence  of  purpose  might  well  be  expressed  by  a  scream. 

59.  Three  modes  of  pointing  have  been  pitched  upon  here  by 
different  critics,  namely,  (!)  (?)  (.),  of  which  we  prefer  the 
latter.  Here,  again,  we  have  recourse  to  Mrs.  Siddons,  who,  it  is 
said,  tried  "  three  different  intonations  in  giving  the  words  We 
fail.  At  first,  a  quick,  contemptuous  interrogation.  We  failf  Aft- 
erwards, with  a  note  of  admiration.  We  fail!  and  an  accent  of  in- 
dignant astonishment,  laying  the  principal  emphasis  on  the  word 
zve.  Lastly,  she  fixed  on  the  simple  period,  modulating  her  voice 
to  a  deep,  low,  resolute  tone,  which  settled  the  issue  at  once ;  as 
though  she  had  said,  '  If  we  fail,  why,  then  we  fail,  and  all  is 
over.'  This  is  consistent  with  the  dark  fatalism  of  the  character, 
and  the  sense  of  the  following  lines ;  and  the  effect  was  sublime." 

64.  Shakespeare  has  taken  his  metaphor  from  the  screwing  up 
of  the  cords  of  stringed  instruments  to  their  proper  degree  of  ten- 
sion, when  the  peg  remains  fast  in  its  sticking-place. 


ACT  SECOND. 
Scene  I. 

7-9.  It  is  apparent  from  what  Banquo  says  afterwards,  that  he 
had  been  solicited  in  a  dream  to  attempt  something  in  consequence 
of  the  prophecy  of  the  witches  that  his  waking  senses  were 
shocked  at ;  and  Shakespeare  has  here  most  exquisitely  contrasted 
his  character  with  that  of  Macbeth.  Banquo  is  praying  against 
being  tempted  to  encourage  thoughts  of  guilt  even  in  his  sleep; 
while  Macbeth  is  hurrying  into  temptation,  and  revolving  in  his 
mind  every  scheme,  however  flagitious,  that  may  assist  him  to 
complete  his  purpose. 

50.  In  the  second  part  of  Marston's  Antonio  and  Mellida,  1602, 
we  have  the  following  lines  : — 

"  'Tis  yet  the  dead  of  night,  yet  all  the  earth  is  clutch'd 
In  the  dull  leaden  hand  of  snoring  sleep : 
No  breath  disturbs  the  quiet  of  the  air, 

'oJ  145 


Notes  THE  TRAGEDY  OE 

No  spirit  moves  upon  the  breast  of  earth, 

Save  howling  dogs,  night-crows,  and  screeching  owls, 

Save  meagre  ghosts,  Piero,  and  black  thoughts. 

I  am  great  in  blood, 

Unequall'd  in  revenge  : — you  horrid  scouts 
That  sentinel  swart  night,  give  loud  applause 
From  your  large  palms." 

55.  The  original  has  sides,  which  Pope  changed  to  strides. 
This,  however,  has  been  objected  to  as  not  cohering  with  "  stealthy 
pace,"  and  "  moves  like  a  ghost."  But  strides  did  not  always 
carry  an  idea  of  violence  or  noise.  Thus  in  the  Faerie  Queene, 
iv.  8,  2>7  •■— 

"  They  passing  forth  kept  on  their  readie  way, 
With  easie  step  so  soft  as  foot  could  stryde." 

And  Shakespeare  in  his  Rape  of  Lucrece  says  in  like  manner  of 
Tarquin,  while  going  about  the  ravishing: — 

"  Into  her  chamber  wickedly  he  stalks, 
And  gazeth  on  her  yet  unstained  bed." 

56-60.  Macbeth  would  have  nothing  break  through  the  universal 
silence  that  added  such  horror  to  the  night,  as  well  suited  with  the 
bloody  deed  he  was  about  to  perform.  Burke,  in  his  Essay  on 
the  Sublime  and  Beautiful,  observes,  that  "  all  general  privations 
are  great  because  they  are  terrible."  The  poets  of  antiquity  have 
many  of  them  heightened  their  scenes  of  terror  by  dwelling  on  the 
silence  which  accompanied  them. 

Scene  II. 

13,  14.  Warburton  has  remarked  upon  the  fine  art  discovered  in 
this  "  one  touch  of  nature."  That  some  fancied  resemblance  to 
her  father  should  thus  rise  up  and  stay  her  uplifted  arm,  shows 
that  in  her  case  conscience  works  quite  as  effectually  through  the 
feelings,  as  through  imagination  in  the  case  of  her  husband.  And 
the  difference  between  imagination  and  feeling  is.  that  the  one 
acts  most  at  a  distance,  the  other  on  the  spot.  This  gush  of  native 
tenderness,  coming  in  thus  after  her  terrible  audacity  of  thought 
and  speech,  has  often  reminded  us  of  a  line  in  Schiller's  noble 

146 


MACBETH  Notes 

drama,  Tlie  Piccolomini:  "Bold  were  my  words,  because  my 
deeds  were  not."  And  ',ve  are  apt  to  think  that  the  hair-stififening 
extravagance  of  her  previous  speeches  arose  in  part  from  the 
sharp  conflict  between  her  feelings  and  her  purpose ;  she  en- 
deavouring thereby  to  school  and  steel  herself  into  a  firmness  and 
fierceness  of  which  she  feels  the  want. 

35-40.  This  whole  speech  is  commonly  printed  as  what  Macbeth 
imagines  himself  to  have  heard;  whereas  all  from  the  innocent 
sleep  is  evidently  his  own  conscience-stricken  reflections  on  the 
imaginary  utterances. — Upon  this  appalling  scene  Coleridge  thus 
remarks :  "  Now  that  the  deed  is  done  or  doing — now  that  the 
first  reality  commences,  Lady  Macbeth  shrinks.  The  most  simple 
sound  strikes  terror,  the  most  natural  consequences  are  horrible 
whilst  previously  everything,  however  awful,  appeared  a  mere 
trifle ;  conscience,  which  before  had  been  hidden  to  Macbeth  in 
selfish  and  prudential  fears,  now  rushes  upon  him  in  her  own 
veritable  person." 

55.  With  her  firm  self-control,  this  bold,  bad  woman,  when 
awake,  was  to  be  moved  by  nothing  but  facts:  when  her  powers  of 
self-control  were  unknit  by  sleep,  then  was  the  time  for  her  to  see 
things  that  were  not,  save  in  her  own  conscience. 

62,  62-  The  old  copy  reads — "  Making  the  Green  one  Red." 
Multitudinous  seas  would  seem  to  require  that  one  should  not  be 
coupled  with  green.  Of  course  the  sense  of  the  line  is — "  Making 
the  green  zvater  all  red."  Milton's  Comus  has  a  like  expression : 
"  And  makes  one  blot  of  all  the  air." 

68,  69.  That  is,  your  firmness  hath  forsaken  you.  doth  not  at- 
tend you. 

73.  This  is  an  answer  to  Lady  Macbeth's  reproof.  "  While  I 
have  the  thought  of  this  deed,  it  were  best  not  know,  or  be  lost  to 
myself." 

Scene  III. 

5,  6.  So  in  Hall's  Satires,  iv.  6 : — 

"  Each  muckworme  will  be  rich  with  lawless  gaine, 
Altho'  he  smother  up  mowes  of  seven  yeares  graine, 
And  hang'd  himself  zvhen  come  grows  cheap  againe." 

21,22.  So  in  Hamlet:  "Himself  the  primrose  path  of  dalliance 
treads."  And  in  All's  Well  that  Ends  Well:  "The  Hozuery  way 
that  leads  to  the  great  fire." 

147 


Notes  THE  TRAGEDY  OF 

26,  2,".  The  second  cock  means  three  o'clock.  So  Romeo  and 
Juliet,  IV.  iv.  3 :  "  The  second  cock  hath  crowed,  the  curfew  bell 
hath  rung,  'tis  three  o'clock.'" 

63,  64.  The  owl  was  always  considered  a  bird  of  direful  omen. 
The  poet  elsewhere  has—"  The  ominous  and  fearful  owl  of 
death."  And  of  Richard  III.  it  is  said — "  The  owl  shriek'd  at  thy 
birth." 

117.  To  gild  with  blood  is  a  very  common  phrase  in  old  plays. 
Johnson  says,  "  It  is  not  improbable  that  Shakespeare  put  these 
forced  and  unnatural  metaphors  into  the  mouth  of  Macbeth,  as  a 
mark  of  artifice  and  dissimulation,  to  show  the  difference  between 
the  studied  language  of  hypocrisy  and  the  natural  outcries  of 
sudden  passion.  This  whole  speech,  so  considered,  is  a  remarkable 
instance  of  judgment,  as  it  consists  of  antithesis  and  metaphor." 

131.  That  is,  when  we  have  clothed  our  half-dressed  bodies. 

136.  Pretence  is  here  used  for  design,  intention :  a  usage  quite 
frequent  in  Shakespeare.  Thus  in  The  Winter's  Tale,  III.  ii. : 
"  The  pretence  whereof  being  by  circumstances  partly  laid  open." 
And  in  Coriolanus,  I.  ii. :  "  Nor  did  you  think  it  folly  to  keep 
your  great  pretences  veil'd,  till  when  they  needs  must  show  them- 
selves."— Banquo's  meaning  is — Relying  upon  God,  I  swear  per- 
petual war  against  this  treason,  and  all  the  secret  plottings  of 
malice,  whence  it  sprung. 

146-148.  Meaning  that  he  suspects  Macbeth,  who  was  the  next 
in  blood. — Suspecting  this  murder  to  be  the  work  of  Macbeth, 
Malcolm  thinks  it  could  have  no  purpose  but  what  himself  and 
his  brother  equally  stand  in  the  way  of ;  that  the  "  murderous 
shaft  "  must  pass  through  them  to  reach  its  mark. 

Scene  IV. 

5  et  seq.  Collier  and  Verplanck  change  travelling  to  travailing 
here,  on  the  ground  that  the  former  "gives  a  puerile  idea";  where- 
upon Dyce  remarks:  "In  this  speech  no  mention  is  made  of  the 
sun  till  it  is  described  as  '  the  travelling  lamp,'  the  epithet  '  travel- 
ling '  determining  ivhat  '  lamp  '  was  intended :  the  instant,  there- 
fore that  '  travelling '  is  changed  to  '  travailing,'  the  word  'lamp  ' 
ceases  to  signify  the  sun."  To  which  we  will  add,  that  if  travel- 
ling lamp  "  gives  a  puerile  idea,"  it  may  be  thought,  nevertheless,  to 
have  a  pretty  good  sanction  in  Psalm  xix. :  "  In  them  hath  he  set 
a  tabernacle  for  the  sun  ;  which  cometh  forth  as  a  bridegroom  out 
of  his  chamber,  and  rejoiceih  as  a  giant  to  run  his  course."  It  should 

148 


MACBETH  Notes 

be  remarked  thiit  in  the  Poet's  time  the  same  form  of  the  word 
was  used  in  the  two  senses  of  travel  and  trazail. — "  After  the  mur- 
der of  King  Duffe,"  says  Holinshed,  "  for  the  space  of  six  months 
togither  there  appeared  no  sunne  by  daye,  nor  moone  by  night,  in 
anie  part  of  the  realme ;  but  still  the  sky  was  covered  with  con- 
tinual clcuds ;  and  sometimes  such  outrageous  winds  arose,  with 
lightenings  and  tempests,  that  the  people  were  in  great  fear  of 
present  dtstrr.ciion." 

i8.  Holinshed  relates  that  after  King  Duff's  murder  "  there  was 
a  sparhazck  strangled  by  an  owl,"  and  that  "  horses  of  singular 
beauty  and  sniftiicss  did  eat  their  own  ftcsh." 

Z2)'  Colme-kill  (meaning  the  cell  or  chapel  of  St.  Columba)  is 
the  famous  lona,  one  of  the  Western  Isles  mentioned  by  Holin- 
shed as  the  burial-place  of  many  ancient  kings  of  Scotland. 


ACT  THIRD. 
Scene  I. 

14.  This  was  the  phrase  of  Shakespeare's  time  for  a  feast  or 
banquet  given  on  a  particular  occasion,  to  solemnise  any  event,  as 
a  birth,  marriage,  coronation. 

72.  That  is,  to  the  uttermost,  to  the  last  extremity.  This  phrase, 
which  is  found  in  writers  who  preceded  Shakespeare,  is  borrowed 
from  the  French.  The  sense  of  the  passage  is — "  Let  fate,  that 
has  foredoomed  the  exaltation  of  Banquo's  sons,  enter  the  lists 
in  aid  of  its  own  decrees,  I  will  fight  against  it  to  the  uttermost, 
whatever  be  the  consequence." 

95.  The  valued  file  is  the  list  wherein  their  value  and  peculiar 
qualities  are  set  down. 

132,  133.  Always  remembered  that  I  must  stand  clear  of  sus- 
picion. 

Scene   II. 

31.  That  is,  do  him  the  highest  honour. 

32-35.  The  sense  of  this  passage  appears  to  be — It  is  a  sign  that 
our  royalty  is  unsafe,  when  it  must  descend  to  flattery  and  stoop 
to  dissimulation. 

38.  Ritson  has  justly  observed  that  nature's  copy  alludes  to 
copyhold  tenure;   in   which   the   tenant   holds   an   estate   for   life, 

149 


Notes  THE  TRAGEDY  OF 

having  nothing  but  the  copy  of  the  rolls  of  his  lord's  court  to  show 
for  it.    A  lifehold  tenure  may  well  be  said  to  be  not  eternal. 

42.  That  is,  the  beetle  borne  along  the  air  by  its  shards  or  scaly 
wings.  Steevens  had  the  merit  of  first  showing  that  shard  or 
sherd  was  an  ancient  word  for  scale ;  as  appears  by  the  following 
lines  from  Gower's  Confessio  Amantis: — 

"  She  sigh,  her  thought  a  dragon  tho, 
Whose  sherd es  shynen  as  the  sonne." 

And  again,  speaking  of  a  serpent : — 

"  He  was  so  sherdcd  all  about, 
It  held  all  edge  tool  without." 

49.  That  great  bond  is  Banquo's  life — the  copyhold  tenure  al- 
luded to  in  line  38  above.  So  in  Richard  III.,  IV.  iv. :  ''Cancel 
his  bond  of  life,  dear  God,  I  pray." 

50.  Thus  in  Fletcher's  Faithful  Shepherdess: — 

"  Fold  your  flocks  up,  for  the  air 
'Gins  to  thicken,  and  the  sun 
Already  his  great  course  hath  run." 

Scene  III. 

10.  They  who  are  set  down  in  the  list  of  guests,  and  expected  at 
/•he  banquet. 

Scene  IV. 

5.  Her  chair  of  state ;  a  royal  chair  with  a  canopy  over  it. 

14.  Better  that  his  blood  should  be  on  you  than  in  him. 

34.  The  last  clause  of  this  sentence  depends  upon  vouch'd ; 
that  feast  which  is  not  often  vouch'd  or  declared  to  be  given 
with  welcome  is  as  if  sold  to  your  guests. 

63,  64.  That  is,  these  self-generated  fears  are  imposters  when 
compared  with  true  fear. 

71-73.  Tl;e  same  thought  occurs  in  The  Faerie  Queene,  ii.  8,  16: 
"  But  be  entombed  in  the  raven  or  the  kight." 

92,  93.  [Re-enter  Ghost]  Much  question  has  been  made,  whether 
there  br  not  two  several  ghosts  in  this  scene;  some  maintaining 

150 


MACBETH  Notes 

that  Duncan's  enters  here,  and  Banquo's  before;  others,  that  Ban- 
quo's  enters  here,  and  Duncan's  before.  The  whole  question 
seems  absurd  enough.  But  perhaps  it  will  be  best  disposed  of  by- 
referring  to  Dr.  Forman,  who,  as  he  speaks  of  Banquo's  ghost, 
would  doubtless  have  spoken  of  Duncan's,  had  there  been  any- 
such.  "  The  night,  being  at  supper  with  his  noblemen,  whom  he 
had  bid  to  a  feast,  (to  the  which  also  Banquo  should  have  come,) 
he  began  to  speak  of  noble  Banquo,  and  to  wish  that  he  were  there. 
And  as  he  thus  did,  standing  up  to  drink  a  carouse  to  him,  the 
ghost  of  Banquo  came,  and  sat  down  in  his  chair  behind  him. 
And  he,  turning  about  to  sit  down  again,  saw  tJie  ghost  of  Banquo, 
which  fronted  him,  so  that  he  fell  in  a  great  passion  of  fear  and 
fury,  uttering  many  words  about  his  murder,  by  which,  when  they 
heard  that  Banquo  was  murdered,  they  suspected  Macbeth." 

105.  That  is,  if  I  stay  at  home  then.  The  passage  is  thus  ex- 
plained by  Home  Tooke :  "  Dare  me  to  the  desert  with  thy  sword; 
if  then  I  do  not  meet  thee  there ;  if  trembling  I  stay  in  my  castle 
or  any  habitation ;  if  I  then  hide  my  head,  or  dzvell  in  any  place 
through  fear,  protest  me  the  baby  of  a  girl." 

III.  Pass  over  us  without  our  wonder,  as  a  casual  summer  cloud 
passes  unregarded. 

113.  You  make  me  a  stranger  even  to  my  own  disposition,  now 
when  I  think  you  can  look  upon  such  sights  unmoved. 

128.  That  is,  what  say'st  thou  to  or  of  this  circumstance'^ 

141.  Johnson  explains  this,  "  You  ivant  sleep,  which  seasons  or 
gives  the  relish  to  all  natures."  So  in  All's  Well  that  Ends  Well: 
'*  'Tis  the  best  brine  a  maiden  can  season  her  praise  in." 


Scene  V. 

[Enter  the  three  Witches,  meeting  Hecate]  Shakespeare  has 
been  censured  for  bringing  in  Hecate  among  the  vulgar  witches, 
as  confounding  ancient  with  modern  superstitions.  But,  besides 
that  this  censure  itself  confounds  the  Weird  Sisters  with  the 
witches  of  popular  belief,  the  common  notions  of  witchcraft  in  his 
Oime  took  classical  names  for  the  chiefs  and  leaders  of  the  witches. 
In  Jonson's  Sad  ShepJierd  Hecate  is  spoken  of  as  mistress  of  the 
witches,  "  our  dame  Hecate."  Charles  Lamb  says  of  the  Weird 
Sisters :  "  They  are  foul  anomalies,  of  whom  we  know  not  whence 
they  are  sprung,  nor  whether  they  have  beginning  or  ending.  As 
they  are  without  human  passions,   so  they  seem  to  be  without 

151 


Notes  THE  TRAGEDY  OF 

human  relations.  They  come  with  thunder  and  lightning,  and 
vanish  to  airy  music.  This  is  all  we  know  of  them.  Except 
Hecate,  they  have  no  names,  which  heightens  their  mysterious- 
ness."  And  the  same  charming  critic  elsewhere  contrasts  the 
Weird  Sisters  with  me  hags  of  popular  superstition.  Speaking  of 
the  witches  of  Rowley  and  Dekker,  he  says — "  They  are  the  plain, 
traditional,  old-woman  witches  of  our  ancestors — ^poor,  deformed, 
and  ignorant,  the  terror  of  villages — themselves  amenable  to  a 
justice.  That  should  be  a  hardy  sheriff,  with  the  power  of  the 
county  at  his  heels,  that  should  lay  hands  on  the  weird  sisters. 
They  are  of  another  jurisdiction."  It  is  worth  remarking,  also, 
how  Dr.  Forman  speaks  of  the  Weird  Sisters,  as  he  saw  them  on 
the  Poet's  own  stage.  "  There  was  to  be  observed,  first,  how  Mac- 
beth and  Banquo,  two  noblemen  of  Scotland,  riding  through  a 
wood,  there  stood  before  them  three  women  Fairies  or  Nymphs, 
and  saluted  Macbeth,  saying  three  times  unto  him,  Hail,  Mac- 
beth," etc.  Which  looks  as  if  this  dealer  in  occult  science  knew 
better  than  to  call  them  witches,  yet  scarce  knew  what  else  to  call 
them. 

24.  Profound  here  signifies  having  deep  or  secret  qualities.  The 
vaporous  drop  seems  to  have  been  the  same  as  the  virus  lunar e 
of  the  ancients,  being  a  foam  which  the  moon  was  supposed  to 
shed  on  particular  herbs,  or  other  objects,  when  strongly  solicited 
by  enchantments. 

2)3.  [Song  after  this  line]  We  subjoin  from  Middleton's  Witch 
the  song  which  has  always  been  used  here  in  the  representation, 
and  which  ought  to  go  with  the  rest  of  the  incantations,  as  having 
probably  been  sanctioned  by  the  Poet's  choice.  Dyce  says,  "  It  is 
so  highly  fanciful,  and  comes  ^in  so  happily,  that  one  is  almost 
tempted  to  believe  it  was  written  by  Shakespeare,  and  had  been 
omitted  in  the  printed  copies  of  his  play." 

"Song  above.      Come  away,  come  away, 

Hecate,  Hecate,  come  away ! 
Hecate.  I  come,  I  come,  I  come,  I  come, 

With  all  the  speed  I  may. 

With  all  the  speed  I  may. 

Where's  Stadlin? 
Voice  above.      Here. 
Hecate.  Where's  Puckle? 

Voice  above.     Here; 


MACBETH  Notes 

And  Hoppo  too,  and  Heltwain  too; 
We  lack  but  you,  we  lack  but  you : 
Come  away,  make  up  the  count. 
Hecate.  I  will  but  'noint,  and  then  I  mount. 

[A  Spirit  like  a  cat  descends. 
Voice  above.     There's  one  come  down  to  fetch  his  dues, 
A  kiss,  a  coll,  a  sip  of  blood ; 
And  why  thou  stay'st  so  long,  I  muse,  I  muse, 
Since  the  air  's  so  sweet  and  good. 
Hecate.  O,  art  thou  come?    What  news,  what  news? 

Spirit.  All  goes  still  to  our  delight : 

Either  come,  or  else  refuse,  refuse. 
Hecate.  Now  I  'm  furnished  for  the  flight. 

Fire.    Hark,  hark !  the  cat  sings  a  brave  treble  in  her  own  lan- 
guage. 

Hecate    Going  up.    Now  I  go,  now  I  fly, 

Malkin  my  sweet  spirit  and  I. 
O,  what  a  dainty  pleasure  'tis 
To  ride  in  the  air 
When  the  moon  shines  fair. 
And  sing  and  dance,  and  toy  and  kiss ! 
Over  woods,  high  rocks,  and  mountains. 
Over  seas,  our  mistress'  fountains. 
Over  steeples,  towers,  and  turrets. 
We  fly  by  night,  'mongst  troops  of  spirits ; 
No  ring  of  bells  to  our  ears  sounds, 
No  howls  of  wolves,  no  yelps  of  hounds; 
No,  not  the  noise  of  water's  breach. 
Or  cannon's  throat,  our  height  can  reach. 
Voices  above.    No  ring  of  bells,"  etc. 

Scene   VI. 

35.  The  construction  is :  "  Free  our  feasts  and  banquets  from 
bloody  knives." 

ACT  FOURTH. 
Scene  I. 

33.  That  is,  a  tiger's  entrails.— In  sorting  the  materials  where- 
with the  weird  sisters  celebrate  their  infernal  orgies,  and  com- 

153 


Notes  THE  TRAGEDY  OF 

pound  their  "  hell-broth,'*  Shakespeare  gathered  and  condensed 
the  popular  belief  of  his  time.  Ben  Jonson,  whose  mind  dwelt 
more  in  the  circumstantial,  and  who  spun  his  poetry  much  more 
out  of  the  local  and  particular,  made  a  grand  showing  from  the 
same  source  in  his  Mask  of  Queens.  But  his  powers  d'd  not  per- 
mit, nor  did  his  purpose  require  him  to  select  and  dispose  his 
materials  so  as  to  cause  anything  like  such  an  impression  of 
terror.  Shakespeare  so  weaves  his  incantations  as  to  cast  a  spell 
upon  the  mind,  and  force  its  acquiescence  in  what  he  represents ; 
explode  as  we  may  the  witchcraft  he  describes,  there  is  no  ex- 
ploding the  witchcraft  of  his  description ;  the  effect  springing  not 
so  much  from  what  he  borrows  as  from  his  own  ordering  thereof. 
43.  [Song  after  this  line\  This  song  also,  like  the  former,  was 
not  given  in  the  printed  copy  of  the  play,  and  has  been  supplied 
from  Middleton's  Witch,  the  manuscript  of  which  was  discovered 
towards  the  close  of  the  eighteenth  century.  The  lines  commonly 
used  on  the  stage  are : — 

"  Black  spirits  and  white,  red  spirits  and  gray. 
Mingle,  mingle,  mingle,  you  that  mingle  may !  " 

Probably  both  songs  were  taken  from  the  "  traditional  wizard 
poetry  of  the  drama." 

68.  [Armed  head  appears]  The  armed  head  represents  sym- 
bolically Macbeth's  head  cut  off  and  brought  to  Malcolm  by 
Macduff.  The  bloody  child  is  Macduff,  untimely  ripped  from  his 
mother's  womb.  The  child,  with  a  crown  on  his  head  and  a  bough 
in  his  hand,  is  the  royal  Malcolm,  who  ordered  his  soldiers  to 
hew  them  down  a  bough,  and  bear  it  before  them  to  Dunsinane. — 
Upton. 

70.  Silence  was  necessary  during  all  incantations.  So  in  The 
Tempest:     "Be  mute,  or  else  our  spell  is  marr'd." 

72.  Spirits  thus  evoked  were  supposed  to  be  impatient  of  being 
questioned. 

78.  So  the  expression  still  in  use:  "  I  listened  with  all  the  ears  I 
had." 

93.  The  present  accent  of  Dunsinane  is  right.  In  every  other 
instance  the  accent  is  misplaced.  Thus  in  Hervey's  Life  of  King 
Robert  Bruce,  1729 : 

"  Whose  deeds  let  Birnam  and  Dunsinnan  tell. 
When  Canmore  battled  and  the  villain  fell." 

154 


MACBETH  Notes 

95.  That  is,  press  it  into  his  service. 

119.  The  notion  of  a  magic  glass  or  charmed  mirror,  wherein 
any  one  might  see  whatsoever  of  the  distant  or  the  future  per- 
tained to  himself,  seems  to  have  been  a  part  of  the  old  Druidical 
mythology.  There  is  an  allusion  to  it  in  Measure  for  Measure,  II. 
ii. :  "  And,  like  a  prophet,  looks  in  a  glass  that  shows  what  future 
evils,"  etc.  Such  was  the  "  brod  mirrour  of  glas  "  which  "  the 
King  of  Arabic  and  of  Inde  "  sent  to  Cambuscan,  as  related  in 
The  Sqiiieres  Tale  of  Chaucer.  But  the  most  wonderful  glass  of 
this  kind  was  that  described  in  The  Faerie  Oueene,  iii.  2,  which 

"  The  great  Magitien  Merlin  had  devis'd 
By  his  deepe  science  and  hell-dreaded  might." 

"  It  vertue  had  to  shew  in  perfect  sight 
Whatever  thing  was  in  the  world  contaynd, 
Betwixt  the  lowest  earth  and  hevens  hight, 
So  that  it  to  the  looker  appertaynd : 
Whatever  foe  had  wrought,  or  frend  had  faynd, 
Therein  discover'd  was,  ne  ought  mote  pas, 
Ne  ought  in  secret  from  the  same  remaynd ; 
Forthy  it  round  and  hollow  shaped  was. 
Like  to  the  world  itselfe,  and  seemd  a  World  of  Glas." 

123.  In  Warwickshire,  when  a  horse,  sheep,  or  other  animal  per- 
spires much,  and  any  of  the  hair  or  wool,  in  consequence  of  such 
perspiration,  or  any  redundant  humour,  becomes  matted  into  tufts 
with  grime,  and  sweat,  he  is  said  to  be  holtered;  and  whenever 
the  blood  issues  out  and  coagulates,  forming  the  locks  into  hard 
clotted  bunches,  the  beast  is  said  to  be  hlood-boltered.  When  a 
boy  has  a  broken  head,  so  that  his  hair  is  matted  together  with 
blood,  his  head  is  said  to  be  boltered. 


Scene  II. 

3,  4.  Our  flight  is  considered  as  evidence  of  treason  or  of  guilty 
fear. 

20.  That  is,  fear  makes  us  credit  rumour,  yet  we  know  not  what 
to  fear,  because  ignorant  when  we  offend ;  meaning,  of  course, 
that  under  such  a  king  as  Macbeth  "  to  do  harm  is  often  laudable, 
to  do  good  sometime  accounted  dangerous  folly."  A  condition 
wherein  men  believe  the  more,  because  they  fear,  and  fear  the 
more,  because  they  cannot  foresee  the  danger. 

155 


Notes  THE  TRAGEDY  OF 

22.  Move  is  for  movement  or  motion. 

65.  That  is,  I  am  perfectly  acquainted  with  your  rank. 

84.  [Exit  Lady  Macduff,  etc.]  "This  scene,"  says  Coleridge, 
"  dreadful  as  it  is,  is  still  a  relief,  because  a  variety,  because  do- 
mestic, and  therefore  soothing,  as  associated  with  the  only  real 
pleasures  of  life.  The  conversation  between  Lady  Macduff  and 
her  child  heightens  the  pathos,  and  is  preparatory  for  the  deep 
tragedy  of  their  assassination.  Shakespeare's  fondness  for  chil- 
dren is  everywhere  shown; — in  Prince  Arthur  in  King  John;  in 
the  sweet  scene  in  The  Winter's  Tale  between  Hermione  and  her 
son;  nay,  even  in  honest  Evans's  examination  of  Mrs.  Page's 
schoolboy." 


Scene  III. 

4.  Birthdom,  for  the  place  of  our  birth,  our  native  land.  To 
bestride  one  that  was  down  in  battle,  was  a  special  bravery  of 
friendship. 

19,  20.  A  good  mind  may  recede  from  goodness  under  an  im- 
perial command, 

24.  That  is,  must  still  look  as  it  does.  A  similar  expression  oc- 
curs in  All 's  Well  that  Ends  Well,  II.  iii. :  "  Good  alone  is  good 
without  a  name ;  vileness  is  so" 

33>  34.  "  Wear  thou  thy  wrongs" — that  is.  the  honours  thou  hast 
won  by  wrong;  or  else  wrongs  as  opposed  to  rights. — That  is,  the 
title  is  confirmed  or  ascertained,  that  none  dare  challenge  it. 

86.  That  is,  summer-resembling  lust;  the  passion  that  burns 
a  while  like  summer,  and  like  summer  passes  away;  whereas  the 
other  passion,  avarice,  has  no  such  date,  but  grows  stronger  and 
stronger  to  the  end  of  life. 

140  et  seq.  Holinshed  has  the  following  respecting  Edward  the 
Confessor :  "  As  it  has  been  thought,  he  was  inspired  with  the  gift 
of  prophecy,  and  also  to  have  the  gift  of  healing  infirmities  and 
diseases.  He  used  to  help  those  that  were  vexed  with  the  disease 
commonly  called  the  king's  evil,  and  left  that  virtue  as  it  were  a 
portion  of  inheritance  unto  his  successors,  the  kings  of  this  realm." 
The  custom  of  touching  for  the  king's  evil  was  not  wholly  laid 
aside  till  the  days  of  Queen  Anne,  who  used  it  on  the  infant 
Dr.  Johnson. — The  golden  stamp  was  the  coin  called  angel. 

177.  Thus  in  Antony  and  Cleopatra,  II.  v.:  "We  use  to  say  the 
dead  are  well." 

156 


MACBETH  Notes 

ACT   FIFTH. 
Scene  I. 

Z'J.  Probably  Lady  Macbeth  fancies  herself  in  talk  with  her  hus- 
band ;  and,  he  having  said  through  fear,  "  Hell  is  murky,"  she 
repeats  his  words,  as  in  scorn  of  his  cowardice. 

47.  She  is  alluding  to  the  terrors  of  Macbeth  when  the  ghost  of 
Banquo  broke  in  on  the  festivity  of  the  banquet. 

55.  Upon  this  awful  passage  Verplanck  has  written  in  so  high 
a  style  of  criticism  that  we  cannot  forbear  to  quote  him.  After 
remarking  how  fertile  is  the  sense  of  smell  in  the  milder  and 
gentler  charms  of  poetry,  he  observes :  "  But  the  smell  has  never 
been  successfully  used  as  the  means  of  impressing  the  imagina- 
tion with  terror,  pity,  or  any  of  the  deeper  emotions,  except 
in  this  dreadful  sleep-walking  of  the  guilty  Queen,  and  in  one 
parallel  scene  of  the  Greek  drama,  as  wildly  terrible  as  this.  It 
is  the  passage  of  the  Agamemnon  of  iEschylus.  where  the  cap- 
tive prophetess  Cassandra,  wrapt  in  visionary  inspiration,  scents 
first  the  smell  of  blood,  and  then  the  vapours  of  the  tomb  breath- 
ing from  the  palace  of  Atrides,  as  ominous  of  his  approacliing 
murder.  These  two  stand  alone  in  poetry ;  and  Fuseli  in  his  lec- 
tures informs  us  that  when,  in  the  kindred  art  of  painting,  it  has 
been  attempted  to  produce  tragic  effect  through  the  medium  of 
ideas  drawn  from  '  this  squeamish  sense,'  even  Raphael  and  Pous- 
sin  have  failed,  and  excited  disgust  instead  of  terror  or  compas- 
sion."— And  Airs.  Siddons,  after  quoting  Lady  Macbeth's — '  All 
the  perfumes  of  Arabia  will  not  sweeten  this  little  hand,'  adds : 
"  How  beautifully  contrasted  is  the  exclamation  with  the  bolder 
image  of  Macbeth,  in  expressing  the  same  feeling :  '  Will  all  great 
Neptune's  ocean  wash  the  blood  clean  from  this  hand?  '  And  how 
appropriately  either  sex  illustrates  the  same  idea !  " 

Scene  II. 

5.  By  the  mortiHed  man  is  meant  a  religious  man  ;  one  who  has 
mortified  his  passions,  is  dead  to  the  world. 

10.  That  is,  unbearded,  smooth-faced.  So  in  The  Tempest: 
"  Till  new-born  chins  be  rough  and  razorable." 


Notes  THE  TRAGEDY  OF 

Scene    IV. 

16-18.  Evidently  meaning,  when  we  have  a  king  that  will  rule 
by  law  we  shall  know  both  our  rights  and  our  duties.  This  note 
is  made  because  some  critics  have  vented  an  unworthy  sneer,  not 
at  the  Poet,  but  at  the  brave  old  warrior  for  speaking  thus. 

Scene  V. 

17.  Lady  Macbeth's  dying  thus  before  her  husband  has  been 
justly  remarked  upon  as  a  most  judicious  point  in  the  drama.  It 
touches  Macbeth  in  the  only  spot  where  he  seems  to  retain  the 
feelings  of  a  man,  and  draws  from  him  some  deeply-solemn, 
soothing,  elegiac  tones ;  so  that  one  rises  from  the  contemplation 
of  his  awful  history  "  a  sadder  and  a  wiser  man."  A  critic  in 
the  Edinburgh  Rcz'iezv  is  almost  eloquent  upon  these  closing  pas- 
sages :  ''  Macbeth,  left  alone,  resumes  much  of  that  connection 
with  humanity  which  he  had  so  long  abandoned:  his  thoughtful- 
ness  becomes  pathetic ;  and  when  at  last  he  dies  the  death  of  a 
soldier,  the  stern  satisfaction,  with  which  we  contemplate  the  act 
of  justice  that  destroys  him,  is  unalloyed  by  feelings  of  personal 
wrath  or  hatred.    His  fall  is  a  sacrifice,  and  not  a  butchery." 

21.  The  last  syllable  of  recorded  time  signifies  the  last  syllable 
of  the  record  or  register  of  time. 

28.  Coleridge  is  eloquent  upon  this  :  "  Alas  for  Macbeth  !  Now 
all  is  inward  with  him ;  he  has  no  more  prudential  prospective 
reasonings.  His  vrife,  the  only  being  who  could  have  had  any 
seat  in  his  afifections,  dies ;  he  puts  on  despondency,  the  final  heart- 
armour  of  the  wretched,  and  would  fain  think  everything  shadowy 
and  unsubstantial,  as  indeed  all  things  are  to  those  who  cannot 
regard  them  as  symbols  of  goodness." 

Scene  VII. 

2.  This  was  a  phrase  of  bear-baiting.  "  Also  you  shall  see  two 
ten-dog  courses  at  the  great  bear"  [i.e.,  the  bear  attacked  by  ten 
dogs,  an  attack  being  called  a  course]. — Antipodes,  by  Brome. 

Scene  VIII. 

I.  Alluding  probably  to  the  suicide  of  Cato  of  Utica,  that  of 
Brutus  at  Philippi,  or  both;  or  to  such  Roman  suicides  in  general, 

J58 


MACBETH  Notes 

7.  Thus  Casca,  in  Julius  Ccrsar:     "Speak,  hands,  for  me." 

9.  The  air  which  cannot  be  cut.  So  in  Hamlet,  I.  i. :  "  For  it  is, 
as  the  air,  invulnerable." 

12.  In  the  days  of  chivalry,  the  champions'  arms  being  cere- 
moniously blessed,  each  took  an  oath  that  he  used  no  charmed 
weapons.  Macbeth,  in  allusion  to  this  custom,  tells  Macdufif  of 
the  security  he  had  in  the  prediction  of  the  spirit.  To  this  like- 
wise Posthumus  alludes  in  Cymbclinc,  V.  iii. :  "I,  in  mine  own 
woe  charm'd,  could  not  find  death."' 

34.  To  cry  hold!  when  persons  were  fighting,  was  an  authori- 
tative way  of  separating  them,  according  to  the  old  military  laws. 
This  is  shown  by  a  passage  in  Bellay's  Instructions  for  the  Wars, 
declaring  it  to  be  a  capital  offence,  "  Whosoever  shall  strike  stroke 
at  his  adversary,  either  in  the  heat  or  otherwise,  if  a  third  do  cry 
hold,  to  the  intent  to  part  them."  This  illustrates  the  passage  in 
I.  V.  of  this  play :  "  Nor  heaven  peep  through  the  blanket  of  the 
dark  to  cry  Hold,  hold! " 

49.  The  same  incident  is  related  in  Camden's  Remains,  from 
Henry  of  Huntingdon :  "  When  Siward,  the  martial  Earl  of  Nor- 
thumberland, understood  that  his  son,  whom  he  had  sent  against 
the  Scotchmen,  was  slain,  he  demanded  whether  his  wounds  were 
in  the  fore  part  or  hinder  part  of  his  body.  When  it  was  an- 
swered, 'in  the  fore  part,'  he  replied.  '/  am  right  glad;  neitJie/ 
zcish  I  any  other  death  to  me  or  mine.'" 

62-64.  "  Malcolm,  immediately  after  his  coronation,"  says  Hol- 
inshed,  "called  a  Parliament  at  Forfair;  in  which  he  rewarded 
them  with  lands  and  livings  that  had  assisted  him  against  Mac- 
beth. Manie  of  them  that  were  before  thanes  were  at  this  time 
made  carles;  as  Fife,  Menteith,  Atholl,  Levenox,  Murrey,  Caith- 
ness, Rosse,  and  Angus." 


159 


THE   TRAGEDY   OF 


Questions  on  Macbeth, 


I.  What  play  of  Middleton  bears  some  resemblance  to  Mac- 
beth? 

2. 'What  arguments  are  found  for  joint  authorship  in  certain 
parts  of  this  play? 

3.  What  probable  date  is  assigned  for  the  composition  of  Mac- 
beth ?  Whence  did  Shakespeare  derive  the  materials  for  this 
drama?  In  what  part  of  the  story  did  he  make  an  important 
alteration? 

4.  What  is  the  duration  of  the  action  of  MacbciJi  ?  How  much 
of  it  occurs  during  the  night?  Is  great  heightening  of  tragic  feel- 
ing derived  from  the  darkness  ? 

ACT    FIRST. 

5.  How  does  Shakespeare  sound  the  keynote  at  the  opening  of 
every  play?    Illustrate  by  Macbeth  and  compare  with  Hamlet. 

6.  What  was  there  in  the  beliefs  of  Shakespeare's  time  to  war- 
rant his  use  of  witchcraft  in  Macbeth  ?  What  nature  and  powers 
were  ascribed  to  witches  then?  What  battle  is  dimly  suggested 
by  the  Second  Witch?  Need  the  witches  have  possessed  super- 
natural powers  in  order  to  fortell  Macbeth's  advancement  ? 

7.  Do  Duncan's  first  words  foreshadow  anything  of  the  tragic 
action  of  the  play? 

8.  On  what  was  Macbeth  engaged  at  the  time  of  the  opening  of 
the  drama?  What  effect  had  his  conduct  of  this  enterprise  upon 
his  reputation? 

9.  Duncan  addresses  Macbeth  as  cousin;  does  this  imply  blood- 
relationship? 

10.  What  poetic  titles  does  Ross  apply  to  Macbeth,  and  what  is 
their  significance? 

II.  What  was  a  thane? 

12.  How  were  the  minds  of  Banquo  and  Macbeth  differently 
affected  by  the  prophecies  of  the  witches? 

13.  The  First  Witch  threatens  to  take  the  form  of  a  rat  luithoiit 
a  tail.    Explain  these  words. 

i6q 


MACBETH  Questions 

14.  What  kind  of  disposition  does  Shakespeare  ascribe  to  Dun- 
can? Was  Duncan  a  weak  king?  Was  he  a  reader  of  men? 
What  was  the  ingratitude  to  which  he  refers,  Sc.  iv.  15? 

15.  What  impression  does  Macbeth  convey  at  his  first  entrance? 
By  his  dwelling  on  the  witches'  prophecies? 

16.  When  does  the  changed  feeling  of  Macbeth  towards  Banquo 
first  show  itself?  What  distinctness  do  you  find  in  the  character 
of  the  thane  of  Cawdor,  although  he  does  not  appear  on  the  stage? 

17.  How  does  Lady  Macbeth  differ  in  disposition  from  her  hus- 
band? How  does  the  letter  to  her  from  Macbeth  bear  upon  the 
plot?  How  does  she  at  her  first  entrance  at  once  take  an  im- 
portant part  in  the  action? 

18.  Mention  some  of  the  minor  characters  who  appear  in  the 
first  act,  and  state  what  part  they  play. 

19.  Arc  yc  fantastical,  or  that  indeed  which  outwardly  yc  shozuf 
Explain  these  words  and  say  how  they  occur  in  the  play. 

20.  Analyze  Macbeth's  soliloquy  (opening  of  Sc.  vii.)  as  a  whole. 


ACT  SECOND. 

21.  What  cursed  thoughts  visited  Banquo  in  his  sleep. 

22.  Does  the  soliloquy  that  ends  Sc.  i.  present  a  new  phase  of 
Macbeth's  nature?  How  does  he  regard  the  dagger?  Explain  its 
appearance  to  him. 

23.  Interpret  the  lines  in  the  soliloquy  beginning,  Thou  sure 
and  firm -set  earth. 

24.  What  bell  is  it  that  breaks  the  soliloquy? 

25.  Had  he  not  resembled  my  father  as  he  slept,  I  had  done't. 
Explain  these  words.    Who  utters  them? 

26.  Is  poetic  horror  heightened  by  having  the  deed  done  off  the 
stage?    To  what  canon  of  the  Greek  drama  does  this  conform? 

27.  What  is  felt  at  Lady  Macbeth's  first  words  to  Macbeth  on 
his  return  from  the  murder? 

28.  From  recital  (Sc.  ii.)  of  his  hallucination  of  hearing  voices, 
Macbeth  passes  to  highly  poetic  soliloquy.  What  revelation  of 
his  nature  is  made  by  this  transition?  At  this  point  does  Lady 
Macbeth  understand  him? 

29.  My  hands  are  of  your  colour,  but  I  shame 
To  wear  a  heart  so  white. 

Explain  these  words.    How  do  they  occur  in  the  play? 

10 -F  161 


Questions  THE   TRAGEDY   OF 

30.  What  do  you  think  of  Macbeth's  loss  of  self-mastery  in  his 
refusal  to  return  with  the  daggers? 

31.  Wake  Duncan  with  thy  knocking!  Is  this  cry  hortatory 
or  grimly  derisive? 

2,2.  Confusion  no-di  hath  made  Jiis  masterpiece.  Explain  these 
words  and  state  how  they  occur. 

33.  What  strange  portents  are  said  to  have  accompanied  the 
murder  of  Duncan? 

34.  In  the  Porter's  soliloquy  can  you  find  any  expressions  that 
seem  to  you  un-Shakespearian?  What  dramatic  and  mechanica.' 
purposes  does  it  serve?  Is  the  burlesquing  here  broader  than  in 
the  Grave-diggers'  scene  of  Hamlet? 

35.  Give  in  your  own  words  the  sense  of  the  passage  (Sc.  iii.  go- 
beginning,  Had  I  but  died  an  hour  before  this  chance. 

36.  Describe  and  contrast  the  ways  in  which  Macbeth  and  Mac- 
duff announce  Duncan's  death  to  Donalbain.  What  different  men- 
tal states  are  indicated? 

37.  Who  first  suspects  Macbeth  of  Duncan's  murder? 

38.  Is  Sc.  iv.  an  adequate  close  for  this  act? 


ACT  THIRD. 

39.  How  is  the  mutual  distrust  of  Banquo  and  Macbeth  after 
the  latter  has  become  king  described  by  Shakespeare? 

40.  Is  it  for  the  sake  of  plot  or  of  character  that  Macbeth  is 
made  (Sc.  i.  30)  to  refer  to  the  absent  sons  of  Duncan?  Could 
it  help  his  case  with  Banquo?  Was  his  course  with  Banquo  al- 
ready determined  in  his  mind? 

41.  How  does  Macbeth  draw  from  Banquo  the  facts  he  wants 
without  arousing  his  suspicion?  What  quality  of  Banquo's  makes 
Macbeth  fear  to  have  him  live?  What  additional  reason  comes 
to  his  mind? 

42.  How  does  Macbeth  contrive  motives  for  the  murderers  he 
commissions  to  kill  Banquo?  What  ulterior  motive  has  he?  Is 
he  wise  or  foolish  in  showing  the  murderers  why  he  wishes 
Banquo  dead? 

43.  Why  does  Macbeth  send  a  third  murderer  to  the  scene? 

44.  What  is  the  significance  of  Banquo's  parting  words  to 
Fleance  ? 

45.  *Tis  better  thee  zcithout  than  lie  ivithin.  Explain  these 
words  and  state  when  they  were  uttered. 

162 


MACBETH  Questions 

46.  What  dramatic  purpose  is  served  by  making  Macbeth  speak 
of  Banquo  immediately  after  the  entrance  of  his  ghost  and  before 
Macbeth  sees  it?  At  what  moment  does  Macbeth  recognize  the 
ghost?     Should  the  ghost  really  appear  on  the  stage? 

47.  How  would  you  characterize  Lady  Macbeth's  speech  (Sc. 
iv.  60)  to  her  husband,  made  at  such  a  moment?  What  efforts 
does  she  make  to  save  the  situation? 

48.  Is  there  any  significant  hint  of  the  hour  at  which  the  ghost 
scene  occurs?  Does  anything  develop  here  concerning  Macbeth's 
relation  to  the  supernatural?  What  change  toward  him  is  as- 
sumed by  the  Weird  Sisters?     Can  you  give  any  reason  for  this? 

49.  Show  from  the  language  of  the  play  that  Shakespeare  repre- 
sented the  ghost  of  Banquo  as  being  visible  only  to  Macbeth. 

50.  Mention,  giving  examples,  any  different  senses  in  which  the 
word  "  mortal  "  is  used  in  Macbeth. 

51.  What  were  the  forces  opposed  to  Macbeth,  and  what  \\^s 
the  state  of  the  kingdom  ? 


ACT   FOURTH. 

52.  What  do  the  three  figures  signify  which  rise  from  the 
witches'  cauldron  to  speak  to  Macbeth? 

53.  In  what  mood  is  Macbeth  when  he  first  addresses  the  Weird 
Sisters  ?    Note  his  multiplying  of  images. 

54.  How  does  Macbeth  receive  the  prophecies  of  his  visitants? 

55.  What  is  the  symbolism  of  the  eight  kings? 

56.  Does  Hecate  accomplish  her  revenge? 

57.  What  important  news  reaches  Macbeth  just  after  the 
witches  vanish?    What  does  it  determine  him  to  do? 

58.  Where  are  t4ie  second  and  third  scenes  of  Act  IV.  placed? 
Is  the  unity  of  action  marred  by  these  changes?  Do  they  give 
enlargement  of  view? 

59.  Compare  with  Act  I.  and  Act  II.  and  tell  how  the  action 
centers  around  Macbeth. 

60.  What  at  this  time  was  the  relation  of  Ross  to  the  king? 
How  does  Ross  describe  the  condition  of  the  times? 

61.  What  is  the  effect  of  the  dialogue  between  Lady  Macduff 
and  her  son? 

62.  How  and  why  does  Malcolm  defame  himself  in  his  con- 
versation with  Macduff? 

163 


Questions  THE  TRAGEDY  OF 

63.  When  and  how   do  we  learn  that  Lady   Macduff  met  her 
fate  at  the  same  time  as  her  children  ? 

64.  What  was  Macduff's  mission  to  Malcolm? 

65.  In  this  dialogue  what  trait  of  character  does  Macduff  pre- 
eminently exhibit? 


ACT    FIFTH. 

66.  Why  Is  the  Gentlewoman  reticent  about  the  words  of  Lad) 
Macbeth  ? 

6^.  When  did  Lady  Macbeth  last  appear  upon  the  scene?  Has 
she  now  ceased  to  take  a  part  in  the  action  of  the  play? 

68.  With  what  earlier  scene  is  that  of  the  sleep-walking  inti- 
mately connected?  What  words  of  Lady  Macbeth  are  reminis- 
^nt  of  previous  words  of  hers? 

69.  In  what  different  ways  does  remorse  affect  Macbeth  and 
Lady  Macbeth? 

70.  Describe  the  new  phases  of  Macbeth's  distemper  which 
appear  in  the  second  and  third  scenes  of  Act  V. 

71.  Is  Macbeth  really  puzzled,  as  his  words  to  the  Doctor  indi- 
cate, by  the  state  of  the  country? 

72.  In  saying  (Sc.  v.  9)  /  have  almost  forgot  the  taste  of  fears, 
does  Macbeth  appear  to  understand  himself? 

72-  Is  Macbeth  moved  by  the  news  of  the  Queen's  death? 

74.  Does  the  expectation  of  Macbeth  hold  out  to  the  end? 
Does  he  abandon  his  hope  in  the  unnatural  prediction  about  one 
not  born  of  woman  ? 

75.  W^hat  was  the  last  fulfillment  of  the  mysterious  prophecies? 


76.  Consider  the  plot  and  principal  characters  of  the  play.  What 
Is  its  moral  significance?    Has  it  a  historical  basis? 

yy.  Give  reasons  why  Macbeth  is  a  great  drama.  Do  you  con- 
sider it  to  be  Shakespeare's  greatest  tragedy;  if  so,  why? 

78.  Which  Is  the  strongest  passage  In  the  play,  and  why? 
Where  does  it  reach  its  climax? 

79.  Name  some  of  the  qualities  of  Lady  Macbeth.  What  im- 
pression of  womankind  does  she  give  you  in  her  first  soliloquy? 

80.  Summarize  the  traits  of  Macbeth's  character.     Is  he  more 

164 


MACBETH  Questions 

complex  than  Lady  Macbeth?     Which  has  the  more  conscience? 
What  utterances  or  actions  prove  it  ? 

8i.  What  is  the  clue  to  the  great  change  in  Macbeth' s  will 
power  ? 

82.  At  what  point  of  the  play  does  Macbeth  begin  to  act  inde- 
pendently of  Lady  Macbeth? 

83.  Why  does_  Shakespeare  put  so  much  beautiful  poetry  into 
the  mouth  of  such  a  character  as  Macbeth.  Compare  Macbeth 
in  this  respect  with  lago. 

84.  How  long  before  the  murder  does  Macbeth  contemplate  the 
deed.  Compare  him  in  this  with  Hamlet.  But  for  Lady  Macbeth 
would  Macbeth  have  killed  Duncan? 

85.  Tn  what  does  Macbeth's  punishment  consist?  What  one 
word  says  it  all  ? 

86.  What  really  breaks  down  Lady  Macbeth  at  the  end?  Is  it 
the  same  cause  which  breaks  down  Macbeth  himself? 

87.  Is  Macbeth  a  poet?  Is  he  a  coward?  If  he  is  a  coward, 
how  do  you  explain  his  bravery  in  battle?  If  he  is  not  a  coward, 
how  do  you  explain  his  hesitancy  and  scruples? 

88.  Has  Macbeth  great  powers  of  dissimulation?  Is  his  de- 
terioration through  ambition  sudden  and  contrary  to  the  ordinary 
course  of  gradual  moral  decay? 

89.  Does  Banquo  take  any  determining  part  in  the  action  of 
the  play?  How  do  you  regard  his  character?  Why  did  Shake- 
speare depart  from  Holinshed  in  not  miaking  Banquo  accessory  to 
the  crime? 

90.  Malcolm  and  Macduff :  were  they  weak  or  cowards  in  flee- 
ing for  their  lives?  Did  anything  justify  Macduff  in  leaving  his 
family? 

91.  What  does  the  knocking  at  the  gate  typify?  What  the 
sleep-walking  scene? 

92.  The  Weird  Sisters :  why  does  Shakespeare  make  them  real, 
instead  of  introducing  them  to  Macbeth  in  a  dream?  What  do 
they  stand  for  in  the  play? 

93.  Contrast  the  use  of  the  word  metaphysical  (I,  v.  30)  with 
its  present  ordinary  meanings.  Mention  any  other  words  used  in 
Macbeth  in  senses  different  from  those  they  have  now. 

94.  What  does  this  drama  show  beyond  the  ordinary  point  that 
"murder  will  out"? 


i6s 


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